An Uncertain Path
by red rose knight
Summary: AU 4 years after TPM. Obi-Wan is a lone knight looking for a purpose. Qui-Gon survived the battle of Naboo to train Anakin. This is the tale of the different path Obi-Wan?s life has taken.
1. Books of Endings, Explanations, Reunions...

The usual disclaimers apply. George Lucas owns it all, I'm not making any money on this.

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Summary: AU 4 years after TPM.

Obi-Wan is a lone knight looking for a purpose. Qui-Gon survived the battle of Naboo to train Anakin. This is the tale of the different path Obi-Wan's life has taken.

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An Uncertain Path

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Part I

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The Book of Endings

Time was irrelevant.

At least it was for Senator Mutan Urot. 

Day and night had blended into one long haze.

The interior of his tiny cell never changed. 

The Udali Senator had arrived on Carua VI as part of a Senate authorized investigation of illegal slavery within the Republic. The Carua contacts had been friendly, even welcoming. They happily showed him everything he wanted to see and then some. 

It had been a beautiful show. 

Muton might have even been persuaded to believe in their innocence had it not been for his two traveling companions. Guardians of peace and justice. Yes, he had requested the help of the Jedi in uncovering the truth. 

They had walked into the center of the largest slavery ring he had ever seen and he had long investigated them in the outer rim. 

The investigation had gone with relative ease.

No wonder the Jedi had been so tense that last morning. 

He would have been too if he had only known.

On the way to the ambassadorial transport the ship was rocked by cannon fire exploding before him. He didn't even know where the shots came from that had killed the two Jedi. 

His captors were experts. He was unharmed save for the bruises of being shoved into the tiny, dark cell.

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Home.

So much time had passed–at least he thought–that Muton wondered if anyone knew he was still being held captive.

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What purpose did it serve to keep him alive all this time? 

Weakly he shoved the bowl of gruel back to the little door that everything came and went through. The larger door had not been opened except to put him in the cell. 

The faces of his captures were a mystery to him. 

They had not even offered the comfort of their voices.

His cell was more than a prison of six walls, it was a prison of the mind as well.

Not that it mattered, it would be his coffin soon enough.

"Muton Urot?" sounded a muffled voice from beyond the door.

"Yes?" he croaked surprised he even still had a voice.

"Stand back."

He heard a strange sound then suddenly a glowing blue light punched through the door. Slowly the focused light drew around in the shape of a large circle just big enough for him to crawl through. The cut away piece shifted and fell back out of his cell as the blue light disappeared.

"Senator," a voice spoke as a brown cloaked figure stepped partway into the small cell. "Can you stand?"

"It's been so long," Muton was barely able to whisper. He squinted but there was not much light to see his savior.

The cloaked figure leaned forward, wrapping an arm gently around Muton's waist, pulling the weakened Senator to his feet. 

"We must hurry," the voice said as the Senator was pulled from his cell. 

Muton's legs could not support him so the figure pulled the Senator's arm across his broad shoulders and helped the man through the poorly lit hall. He glanced sidelong at his savior and gave a weak smile. 

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A Jedi,he thought.

Suddenly a renewed strength poured into his weary body.

"Alarm!" A voice raged from behind.

Muton's heart leapt in fright but the Jedi remained calm. 

The Senator felt himself being pushed behind the safety of a thick pillar as blaster bolts tore past. In his weakened condition he sank to the cold floor. Muton shook even as the familiar hum of the lightsaber cut through the air deflecting the bolts back at the shooters.

Before the Senator knew it, he was ripped off his feet and half carried through the corridor. The Jedi turned occasionally into the blaster fire and with one hand tight around the saber hilt he deflected the shots back. 

Muton tried to aid the Jedi's speed by walking as fast as he could. His feet barely seemed to touch the floor. He breathed heavily, the fresh air foreign to his lungs making them ache terribly. 

Up ahead warm sunlight cascaded into the corridor. Muton smiled dreamily at the approaching freedom. All he could see was the yellow warmth flooding his vision like a refreshing liquid into his thoughts. His feet gave out from beneath him.

"Stay with me, Senator," the gruff voice of the Jedi called to him urging the weakened man on.

Muton felt as if he were floating.

Then the hard rough floor jarred him back to his senses.

The Jedi stumbled then turned. His lightsaber flashing quicker than Muton's dulled senses could register.

Cries rang out as the pursuers fell back. 

Again the Senator was pulled to his feet. 

Within moments he was pulled out into the bright sunlight. 

Muton blinked blindly up into the bright yellow sky. "Free?"

"Not yet." The Jedi pulled Muton toward the open plain just outside the prison house. "Where is it?" The Jedi growled searching the sky.

Blaster fire rained down on them. 

The Jedi turned, shielding the Senator with his body. The brown cloak shifted across the blaster ravaged soil barely able to keep up with the lightening quick reflexes. 

Muton groaned in pain as he was rushed toward the trees on the far edge of the compound. 

The Jedi yelled into a comlink, "Where are you?"

"Almost there."

"Almost isn't good enough!" The Jedi barked. "You promised me you'd be waiting!"

Over the tall golden treetops a small, heavily armed transport appeared. Its rectangular primer gray body hovered in the distance before he turned and two heavy ion cannons opened up on the pursuers. 

"Our ride, Senator," the Jedi said tersely pulling the man toward the open landing platform of the descending ship.

A volley of blaster fire targeted the transport rocking it but it held its place.

With a little help of the Force the Jedi shoved the Senator onto the platform. Waving his lightsaber wielding arm as a signal to the pilot the Jedi turned to deflect a few more bolts that came too close to the transport's open bay.

The pilot saw the signal and the ship quickly started to take off.

The platform began to close and the Senator was rolled deeper into the open bay. Muton twisted slightly to stare out at the Jedi racing to avoid the blaster fire and catch up with the fleeing ship. Muton reached out but he was too far in and too weak to be of any help.

The Jedi Force jumped, catching the edge of the rising platform. His hands gripped clumsily at the door, fighting to maintain his grip.

A blaster shot ripped through one of the platform's supports with an explosion. The door jerked open and the Jedi knight nearly lost his hold. Drawing his focus to the situation at hand the Jedi pulled himself up onto the platform, ducking in time to miss another wayward bolt. Sliding into the ship he grabbed at a handle and pulled the door shut then manually sealed it.

Muton clumsily sat up as the ship began a tight ascent toward the atmosphere. He braced himself against the cold bulkhead. Through fuzzy vision the Senator truly saw his savior for the first time.

The Jedi paid him little attention.

A thick braid down the back of the knight's head tied back part of his tussled ginger hair. A neatly trimmed beard hid the permanent frown that creased the knight's near expressionless face.

The Jedi focused on a misshapen piece of durasteel that was embedded in his upper arm. Without even a wince he pulled it free allowing the shrapnel to clatter to the floor with a spray of blood.

Mouton spoke slowly, testing his voice. "Thank you, Jedi Knight–"

There was an awkward silence for a moment as icy sharp blue eyes turned on the Senator.

"What is your name, Jedi?" Mouton asked.

"Kenobi."

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The Book of Explanations

"It was an error," Qui-Gon Jinn said firmly.

"How do you believe that?" Master Mace Windu asked from the circle of twelve in the Jedi Council chambers.

Qui-Gon shifted slightly, pulling deep creases in his sleeves as he folded his arms tight. "Anakin was--"

"Young Skywalker," Mace said interrupting the venerable Jedi. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm very sorry," the thirteen year old responded. 

"Sorry?" Adi Gallia asked. 

"I didn't know it was the princess's pet!" Anakin sputtered as the blond padawan braid twisting over his shoulder.

"That shouldn't have mattered," Ki Adi Mundi spoke up. "A creature is dead."

"But it was just a grivit bird." Panic filled Anakin's bright blue eyes.

"It was a living thing and you killed it. Unless you can tell us it was an accident--"

Qui-Gon cleared his throat, interrupting Ki Adi Mundi. He stepped behind Anakin and placed his hands on the awkward youth's shoulders. "It was an error in judgement," Qui-Gon said firmly. "The boy is learning from his mistakes."

"He used the Force to choke the bird to death," Mace said slowly.

"I just reacted," Anakin half cried but the strength and calm his master offered through their training bond eased his agitation. The youth stood there calmly. "I didn't mean to. I wasangry."

The council relaxed in their seats as if satisfied with the answer. 

"I have been working with him intently since them," Qui-Gon answered. "He is learning from his error," he stressed again.

"Anger leads to hate," Yoda spoke up. "Hate leads to the dark side. Access this emotion, you do too easily. Concerned, we are."

"He has improved so much in the last four years," Qui-Gon stressed. 

"We are well aware of this, Master Jinn," Mace said coolly.

"He should not be censured."

"Our own Council we will keep on how to deal with young Skywalker," Yoda said tersely. 

Qui-Gon stood there silently for a moment. His keen eyes studying the circle that surrounded them. "Anakin needs," was all he managed before his attention was pulled from the council chambers into to the lively temple that surrounded them. His stance faltered slightly as a shadow danced across his heart.

Anakin glanced back at Qui-Gon. _Master?_

The maverick Jedi master shook off the slight daze and returned his focus to the Council. "It has been a trying mission for both myself and my padawan. I feel downtime at the temple and a return to a normal schedule would do us both good. Anakin certainly needs to return to his classes. I would not want him falling behind." He gave a slight, reassuring smile. "Normalcy is what we both need right now."

"Well noted," Mace responded. "While padawan Skywalker is at the temple, he should pay a few visits to Healer Ielesis. See if maybe he can help him work through some of his wilder emotions."

"We shall schedule a visit immediately," Qui-Gon said bowing. He cast his gaze to the boy to make sure Anakin followed suit.

A dull expression graced the youth's face but he also bowed.

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The Book of Reunions

"Master?" Anakin asked softly as they exited the Council chambers. Worry clouded his youthful features.

"Yes, Padawan?" Qui-Gon said with a gentle smile directed at the gangly youth who walked along side him.

"I'm sorry," Anakin whispered as he cast his eyes to the floor. He stared up at the tall master with a smile. As always, Qui-Gon stood up for him, defended him to those who were unwilling to give him a chance. A part of him felt he had disappointed his master. He sighed softly. 

"It is something that you must learn from," the venerable master said, stopping to face his thirteen year old apprentice. Gently placing his large hands on the boy's shoulders, he spoke with understanding, "It should not have happened, but if you can learn from it–"

Qui-Gon stood motionless for a moment trapped somewhere in thought.

"Are you all right, my Master?"

Slowly the Jedi master turned to face the corridor that led away from the chambers.

Breezing through the corridor like a specter moved a figure in a flowing brown Jedi cloak and a hard set expression that seemed aware of everything and nothing at once.

Through his bond with Qui-Gon, Anakin sensed a chill then his master's shields closed him out.

The specter moved past the master and apprentice as if they were not even there.

"Master?" Anakin whispered. 

Blood soaked the right sleeve of Obi-Wan's brown cloak. He stopped and studied the dried blood that covered his hand as if he were completely amazed by it. Staring past it, his eyes met Qui-Gon's and he smiled. "Master Jinn," he said formally and bowed.

The coldness radiating from the knight made the boy retreat into the shelter of his master's protection.

"Come, Anakin," Qui-Gon said gruffly and with the sweep of his billowing cloak sleeve shielded the boy as he lead his apprentice away. 

"But Master," Anakin whispered softly, "that's Obi-Wan."

"Knight Kenobi," Qui-Gon corrected but gave no more attention to the quiet figure standing near the chamber doors. "He is of no concern to us."

Obi-Wan Kenobi watched the exodus of the tall master and the youth that seemed to have grown nearly a foot and half since the last time he had seen him. No expression graced his worn features. Unconsciously he pulled the edges of his cloak tighter.

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The Book of Not Leaving

The Council chambers were silent.

Twelve Jedi masters stared at the figure in the center of the room.

Dead silence.

Mace shifted in his seat ever so slightly but never removed his steady gaze from the Jedi before him.

Obi-Wan stood staring out the large windows. His empty expression did not see the masters that studied him. Without really thinking about it, he drew his mental shielding tighter as if that were possible.

Recognizing the intense shielding, Mace glanced over at Yoda. After a moment of silent counsel he returned his gaze to the knight. "We have already received word from Chancellor Palpatine and the Urotian delegation. They are grateful for your services."

"I do only as the Council deems fit," Obi-Wan said slowly as he bowed.

Yoda squinted as he drew his ears back slightly.

"You're bleeding," Adi Gallia spoke with compassion heavy in her voice. "We would not have faulted you if you had sought the healers before reporting here."

"It is not serious," Obi-Wan said dully.

"Humph!" Yoda snorted. "Habit, this is of yours."

"Senator Muton is safe. I request another mission."

"No," Mace said as if surprised by the request.

The staid expression of Obi-Wan's cracked. He looked away from the distant commerce lines and stared at Mace. "Master?"

"You have followed one mission after another for nearly four straight years."

"And I am ready for another," Obi-Wan said quickly, a hint of panic filling his voice.

Mace continued with little hesitation. "Each mission you return to us a little more worse for the wear. I've seen Jedi who have been field operatives longer than you have been alive who do not project the wear you do."

"I would better--"

"No," Yoda spoke up. "Self destructive this path you are on."

"Master--"

"Speaking, I am!" Yoda slipped from his chair and hobbled across the floor to where Obi-Wan stood. He rocked back on his bare feet and stared at the knight. The little master knew he was acting out of decorum for a council meeting but he also sensed that Obi-Wan felt under siege. "Forgotten I have how tall you are." Yoda poked Obi-Wan in the leg with his gimer stick.

Reluctantly, the knight knelt down to better face the little master.

Yoda tugged on the bloody sleeve then unkindly poked Obi-Wan in his wounded arm with the gimer stick. He studied the knight's dull expression that didn't react to the abuse. "Like this, you come to us too many times. Very concerned we are."

"You do not need to be." Obi-Wan stared at the floor before Mace's booted feet. "A mission--"

"No more missions," Adi said. "At least for now."

"But--"

"Do not argue with the Council," Mace said sternly leaning forward in his seat.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, stilling his panicked mind. "I am good at one thing," he said softly.

Mace spoke slowly, "You are assigned to the temple indefinitely."

Obi-Wan was on his feet in a flash. "You cannot."

"We can."

"I will not!"

"You will," Mace replied sternly.

"There has to be a hostage situation or something I can do. I will not stay here."

"You have no choice," Mace said coldly.

Yoda poked Obi-Wan in the leg again. Short stubby green fingers motioned the knight to kneel.

Obi-Wan just stood there, staring blankly ahead. "I cannot stay at the temple."

"Home, temple is," Yoda said calmly.

"Not anymore."

Mace spoke evenly, leaving no doubt of his authority. "No missions until further notice. I suggest you get used to the excitement of temple life."

Obi-Wan stared at the other masters searching them for a sign that they would offer him help. "Just one more, then I'll take some down time."

"That's what you said last time."

The knight stiffened. Slowly he folded his arms into the sleeves of his cloak. The distant, stoic expression returned. There was plenty of fight still in him but Obi-Wan knew the Council would not bend. Their solemn faces and keen eyes created an invisible prison that he knew he would not escape.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

The steady thud of Yoda's gimer stick echoed in the council chambers. "Return to center," the ancient master said plainly as if it were the only possible answer.

Adi Gallia spoke calmly, "Housing says you qualify for an apartment on a higher level. We understand you have refused previous offers. You might take them up on their offer. It may make the transition easier."

"I like where I am at now."

"When was the last time you slept in your apartment?"

Obi-Wan remained silent.

"Do you even know where your apartment is?"

"Lowest housing level. Farthest corner right of the main lifts."

"Go to the healers," Mace said coolly.

Obi-Wan bowed and stormed from the room.

Yoda sighed softly.

"That did not go well," Mace said.

"Expected it to, did you?" Yoda asked turning to face the dark skinned master.

"He will not seek the healers," Adi said calmly. "He will not seek any help while at the temple."

"Then find him, help will."


	2. Books of Old Friends, Being Alone, Quest...

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The Book of Old Friends

The chime sounded an impatient second time.

Qui-Gon Jinn took his time arriving at the door. Any other time he would have called on the Force and waved the door of his apartment open. Any other time when he didn't feel so tense.

He palmed the door open only to face his friend Mace Windu. 

"What brings you here?"

"I can't pay a visit to my friend?"

Qui-Gon stepped back and ushered the respected Council member inside. "I always suspect something when you show up before I've had a chance to unpack."

"I've become obvious," Mace said with a smile taking a seat on the couch.

"Tea?"

"No, thank you." Mace glanced around the apartment, but he was already aware of Anakin's presence in the training rooms. "Qui--"

"Obi-Wan's here." No use in mincing words.

They both knew the reason of Mace's presence.

Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes, I know. How could I not? He was my padawan once." The words were plain, formal. Emotionless. The graying Jedi master sat down in the chair across from his friend. He offered a mask of calm that he knew his friend could easily see through. "He will be gone in a day or so."

"Not this time."

Suddenly Qui-Gon straightened and stared at Mace. "What do you mean?"

"The will of the Council is he will not be given any more missions for the time being. Yoda has insisted he remains within the temple."

"Aren't there any more hostage situations for him? Or has the Republic suddenly broken out into peace."

Mace just stared at the other man for a long time. "Now you know as well as I do that there will always be a need for a good extraction expert. But like I said, Yoda has insisted he remains within the temple for the time being."

Qui-Gon leapt to his feet. "Then Anakin and I should return to the field."

"You haven't even been back a day."

"Mace--"

"If it would make you feel better, Obi-Wan showed his displeasure with the Council. He argued against it. Of course, we won."

"That does not make me feel better. We will take an extended mission to the farthest reaches of space."

Mace laughed. "Do you know who you sound like?"

Qui-Gon just stared at him.

"You sound just like Obi-Wan in that meeting."

"Do not compare me to him," Qui-Gon said coldly.

"He had an excellent teacher to learn defiance from."

"I do not want to speak about him!" Qui-Gon roared.

Mace leaned back in his seat and stared at the other Jedi calmly not ruffled by the outburst.

Qui-Gon stopped. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After a moment he released his sudden anger to the Force. When he was sufficiently centered he opened his eyes. "Forgive me."

"It's been four years, Qui."

"I think I would rather have you lecture me on Anakin than listen to anything you have to say concerning Knight Kenobi."

Mace lowered his eyes and sadly shook his head. "You do not make things easy, old friend."

"Find us another mission."

"You and Anakin just arrived. Padawan Skywalker needs his schedule and a return to his classes, wasn't that what you said in the briefing earlier?" He motioned to the vacated chair. "Sit."

Reluctantly Qui-Gon sat down.

"I remember a conversation about six or seven years ago." Mace hesitated to gage Qui-Gon's reaction. He smiled as he spoke. "You told me you were getting too old to chase padawan's around. A twenty-three year old was too much for your old bones, you said."

An unhappy frown graced Qui-Gon's leonine features.

"I couldn't imagine you taking on a nine year old. How are your old bones handling him now that he is thirteen?"

"Once the nervous energy was brought under control, my old bones are doing fine."

"That's why I detect a well hidden limp."

Qui-Gon laughed and leaned back in his seat. "I should never have opened the door."

"I would have leaned on the chime."

"Threats."

"Anakin."

Again the venerable master frowned. "We are working through this."

"We are concerned."

"I didn't know this was an official visit."

"It's not." Mace sat quietly for a long time. "Maybe I should rephrase that. _I_ am concerned."

Qui-Gon's steady gaze fell onto his friend. "Anakin is no worse than other kids his age. I've trained three of them and I can tell you that."

"Yes, but none of your thirteen year olds killed a bird out of annoyance."

"It is a stumbling stone." Qui-Gon hesitated, turning his attention completely to his friend. His words were slow and deliberate. "I know Anakin is having difficulties. No, I don't mean to downplay what happened. I know there will be many more incidents. I am working with him. He is improving, you have to see that."

"I know. I have kept very close tabs on his progress. You know that."

"Yes." Qui-Gon leaned forward in his seat. "Anakin is everything. He is improving faster than I could have imagined. He's not only caught up with the children his age but he has surpassed them. He is the chosen one. He is my legacy."

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The Book of Being Alone

The lift door opened.

A specter brushed out of the empty compartment. 

Obi-Wan moved silently. His memory guided him through each turn until he reached the farthest, darkest corner.

On this floor of the residence wing it was sparsely populated. A temporary touch down for newly minted knights eager to spend their time in the field. More often than not, this corner went unoccupied. No one wanted to stay there. 

No windows. 

No easy route to the lifts or stairs. 

It was plain. The walls dull. Neglected compared to the rest of the living quarters.

But that little corner, deep in the temple, had one thing no other apartment had. It was as far from Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker's apartment as it could be and still remain in the greater temple. 

Obi-Wan stood at the dull gray door. 

Unconsciously he pulled his cloak tighter attempting to shelter himself from the in borne chill. The small travelling bag strap pushed back tight against his shoulder. His hand raised slowly to palm the door open but he stopped. 

Going in meant he accepted defeat.

The Council had won. He already knew that.

The door swished open and Obi-Wan stared into the darkened room.

He looked down the hall.

Alone.

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What else was new?

Obi-Wan stepped in and allowed the door to slide closed behind him. Dim lights came on with the wave of his hand. 

The room was small. 

It was barely large enough to support a small couch. A little table in the corner. Dull gray walls.

An even tinier sleep room with a refresher.

Home.

The small travel bag that he always carried fell to the floor by the door. 

Obi-Wan didn't travel any further than the bag. He leaned back against the door. His eyes slowly adjusting to the low light setting.

A bright green light flashed on the com unit at the far end of the small room.

Each blink as steady as a heartbeat at rest.

He made no move toward it.

It could blink all it wanted he wasn't going to answer it.

Whoever it was, he didn't want to speak to them.

The green light seemed to pulse quicker.

There was a chime and the light grew steady. 

"I know you're still unpacking," came a female voice over the com's automatic messaging system. "Obi-Wan, I know you are there. Obi?"

Unconsciously reinforcing his shields, Obi-Wan stood almost frozen wishing the message would hurry up and end.

"What are you doing? Walking as slow as possible? Master Yoda wanted me to report whether or not you showed up. You know he asks this every time. I hate having to explain to him that you won't go to the healers."

"But you do, Bant," Obi-Wan whispered. "Faithful friend as ever. Even when I don't give you a reason to be."

"Obi-Wan, answer me. I know you're there. Where else would you be in the temple?" There was a moment of hesitation. "Okay, maybe I didn't give you a chance to get in, that's what I'm hoping. I hear rumor around the temple you're going to be staying around for a while. I don't want you to slip past without getting a chance to visit with you."

Then there was silence.

The green light began blinking again.

The brown cloak billowed and floated as Obi-Wan crossed the room in a few bold steps. His hand brushed the cool surface of the com, never hesitating he pressed the erase button.

The green light disappeared. 

Slowly he turned and stared at the empty room.

No one lived there.

No one lived there even when he did.

Obi-Wan sank to the single chair next to the small round table in the corner. Again he tugged on his cloak, drawing it tight over his tunic, as if it would protect him from the phantom chill that was his constant companion.

Slowly he scanned the room.

There was nothing.

Not one personal effect to give away it's owner.

The hardness of his expression slipped away.

Without thinking he slipped his hand along the side of his utility belt searching for a little pouch. Pulling it open he absently reached inside. For a moment he just sat there surprised at what he had done.

Sad realization struck him. The river stone, a gift on his thirteenth birthday from Qui-Gon, much like the person he had once been, were gone. 

A part of him wished he still had it, if for no other reason than to remind him of a past where everything had its place. A time when he knew his destiny.

When he knew his place in the world.

When he wasn't so alone.

_________________

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The Book of Questions

Qui-Gon Jinn took quick glances about the hallway as he swiftly headed back toward his quarters.

His eyes the only thing he could trust.

"I don't think it worked," a voice came from behind.

Suddenly the tall master stiffened as he turned, his cloak billowing in the corridor. His expression eased as he saw his apprentice jogging to catch up.

Anakin offered up a roguish grin. "You're still tense."

The Jedi master straightened. "Funny, I feel fine," he said with a smile. Gently he laid a large, comforting hand on Anakin's shoulder. "How did your sparring match with Master Ke go?"

The youth twisted slightly showing an angry burn along his neck. "She got me six times."

"Six?" Qui-Gon laughed. "Most padawans give up after the second."

A look of disappointment fluttered across Anakin's features as he stared up. "I didn't know it was okay to give up."

"With Master Ke a tactical retreat is always the smartest option."

The frown quickly broke into a round of laughter from the thirteen year old. "I'll remember that the next time."

"I'm sure you will."

"You're still tense," Anakin said, drawing the conversation back to his master.

"There is a lot on my mind," the tall master said calmly as he continued his trek through the temple. Consciously he returned to his visual search.

For a long time, Anakin walked silently in his place next to his master, but he often stole glances up at the man. "Obi-Wan," he said finally.

"Knight Kenobi," Qui-Gon gently corrected, unhappy to hear _that_ name spoken so casually. "And no, that is not it."

"Humph."

"You're sounding more like Master Yoda every day."

Anakin strained to stare up at the tall master. "I sit through enough of his lectures."

"It is done only in your best interests."

"He pokes me with that stick of his. I can't wait until I'm bigger so he won't do that."

"Get used to it," Qui-Gon chuckled, pressing his hand to the youth's shoulder. "He still has no trouble jamming me in the shin with it whenever he pleases."

More laughter from the boy.

Qui-Gon couldn't help but to return the laughter and gently tugged on the thin padawan braid that dangled over Anakin's shoulder. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever felt so happy.

No, happy wasn't the word for it. 

__

Complete.

He couldn't help but to stare at the youth's innocent face. Through Anakin he would pass on all his knowledge. All that he ever was. And the boy was a willing student he could not have asked for more.

When the two Jedi passed beyond the gentle current of the temple occupants to a more secluded section Anakin slowed. "Do you hate him?" he asked softly, his eyes cast to the floor.

Qui-Gon stopped. His gaze turned empty as he stared down the hallway.

"I over heard some padawans whispering."

"You shouldn't listen to rumors."

"Do you hate him?"

"No, Anakin."

"Then why don't you two ever speak to each other? You were friends before."

"I was his teacher and he was my student. We've just grown apart," Qui-Gon said casually, hoping the boy would accept it without question.

"Do you think when I become a knight that we'll grow apart?"

The Jedi master exhaled breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "I don't think I would ever allow that to happen."

"Good, because I would hate to lose our friendship."


	3. Books of Directions, Temple Ghosts 1

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The Book of Directions

He could have gone to the meditating gardens.

He could have found someplace that had always been familiar. Places that had once been comforting.

The room of a thousand fountains.

Obi-Wan would liked to have gone there.

Qui-Gon had been there meditating.

So this would have to do.

Slowly the knight looked around the cramped room.

It wasn't much to look at.

The lowest level of the temple, far from the noise of thousands of Jedi moving about their daily lives. It was quiet, buffered by layers of flooring. 

A little dusty.

At least he was left alone.

He breathed deeply. Inhaling the stale air and exhaling it slowly.

A dull ache moved through his right arm. 

The wound was healing, albeit slowly.

The physical wounds always did. 

He _was_ going to survive a little cut to the arm.

The cell walls offered him protection, although from what he couldn't quite explain.

Maybe it was the nightmares that usually drove him from the few moments of sleep he managed. The one's that disturbed even his meditations.

The cell felt warm. Yet the coldness that had been his constant companion for nearly four years chilled him. The protection of his cloak did little to change that.

The warmth–the dry warmth–moved through his meditating mind like a miasma. He could never shake the feeling that something was wrong. The images–memories–of sand drove through his unguarded mind.

Jedi don't have nightmares, they don't dream, but the mantra did nothing to take the stigma away. If only he could explain to someone the dreams–the visions–that haunted him.

"I came here to be alone," he said coldly.

"In a room full of people, alone you are."

"Master."

Yoda hobbled into the cell. He still had to look up at the meditative knight. "Hmm," he said, resting his chin on the crook of his gimer stick. "Shielded I was."

"I'm dead if I can't pick up the changes in my surroundings, Master."

"Not so dangerous, temple is."

"I will not always be at the temple."

"So quick you are too leave. Give yourself no chance to adjust to temple life."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Dead blue stared at the little master. "I would rather be on a mission."

"No." The word was quick, firm. 

"I don't belong here," Obi-Wan told the little master. "I would better serve elsewhere." There was a long pause. "Where others should not be risked."

"No less important your life is. The loss of one Jedi would diminish the whole. Your life or another's it matters not." Yoda hobbled around the knight. The gimer stick thudded against the floor, smacked against the cushioned walls. "A cell." He stopped shaking his head sadly.

The room hadn't been touched in years but it existed never the less just in case. It was used as a last resort. A prison cell with padded, Force dampening walls for Jedi who were out of control. 

It was designed to protect those on the outside from those on the inside. Or maybe it was the other way around.

"Find comfort here, do you?"

"Yes." The knight shifted, drawing his cloak tight.

Yoda hobbled around to Obi-Wan's right side. He tugged on the blood stained sleeve. "Frayed this cloak is. New one you need."

"I like this cloak."

"New one you will get."

"Master–"

Yoda drove the foot of his gimer stick into the gash in the sleeve.

"Ow!" Obi-Wan roared, falling back against the cushioned wall in a mixture of pain and shock.

The little green master smiled as Obi-Wan pressed his hand to the source of the discomfort. "Alive you are!" he said with a touch of amused surprise. "Doubts I had."

"Master–"

Another swift jab of the gimer stick to the arm wound evoked another cry. "Argue with me, you will not!" he said with a familiar sternness. "Answer me, you will."

Obi-Wan drew himself into the corner shaking from the sharp pain radiating from his arm.

"When last you spoke to Qui-Gon?"

Protecting his arm from another hit, Obi-Wan growled, "Three and a half years ago. You know that."

"Stubborn you are." Yoda warily eyed the Jedi taking note of the bitterness in his voice. Brushing the conversation to the side, the little master spoke up with a degree of excitement in his gravely voice. "Many initiates there are," he said suddenly. "Time for you to consider choosing. The initiates you should visit with."

"No, Master–"

Again Yoda's quick reflexes caught the knight by surprise, causing another pained yelp. "Consider taking a padawan, you will."

____________________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part I

Four months two weeks since the battle of Naboo. 

Three months since Qui-Gon was released from the healing center to recover in his own apartment. 

Three months since Anakin moved into the apartment to acclimate to temple life. 

Two months two weeks since Obi-Wan woke from a deep coma. 

One month and one week since Obi-Wan passed his trials. 

One month since Obi-Wan was knighted. 

One month since Obi-Wan left on his first mission.

Three weeks since Qui-Gon formally took Anakin as his padawan learner.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon Jinn could barely muster his voice to speak the name that once had been so easy to him. 

The Jedi standing in the corridor with the short ginger hair turned to greet the venerable master with cold, haunted blue eyes. "Master Jinn," Obi-Wan returned dully. 

The eyes, was all Qui-Gon could see. Empty, dead. 

It took more strength than Qui-Gon had to draw his gaze from the young man's eyes. Something about the boy looked so different.

What was it? 

Qui-Gon studied his apprentice. He gave a weak smile as a realization flowed over him. "You're not my padawan anymore." 

"No." 

The master couldn't help himself, he reached out and grasped the empty air behind Obi-Wan's right ear where the braid had once been. 

__

Obi-Wan withdrew a step. 

A frown graced Qui-Gon's face as he slowly withdrew his hand. "Mace told me." 

The apprentice–the knight–looked away. "You were busy," Obi-Wan said softly. 

"Who cut your braid?" The words were weak and Qui-Gon hated himself for not being stronger at that moment. He blamed his injury. A lightsaber through the chest would allow weakness. Although he admitted it wasn't weakness of body that made the tears well in his eyes.

"I did," Obi-Wan said plainly. "It was my right."

"You didn't even stop and tell me you were leaving on your mission. I would liked to have known." Qui-Gon stared at the youth for a moment. "I imagined——"

"You had Anakin to take your attentions." 

"He is important," Qui-Gon said quickly. Immediately though he regretted his words as Obi-Wan withdrew another step. "Why didn't you tell me you had completed your trials?" 

The empty, distant gaze turned on the former master. Obi-Wan seemed so much older even as he pulled the edges of his cloak tight. "You would have known, Master Jinn, had you not severed the training bond before the trials." 

"I needed to work with--"

"Anakin wasn't your padawan!" Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes closed taking a moment to center after his outburst. 

"He is the chosen one," Qui-Gon said firmly. "I know you can't understand that. Or rather you are like the council and you won't." 

What had he meant by those words? 

Were they meant to explain the situation? 

__

By the empty, haunted look in Obi-Wan's eyes, Qui-Gon knew they had been meant to condemn. 

"Anakin will bring balance to the Force," He continued as if trying to explain everything. 

"And when he disappoints you too?" Obi-Wan shifted in his cloak, folding his arms into his sleeves as if fighting back a deep chill. 

"He won't." 

Obi-Wan smiled, withdrawing a little further. "I hope you're right, Master Jinn." 

Qui-Gon bristled at the formality and was about to comment when he noticed the slight shiver shake his former padawan learner. Anyone else would have missed it but Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan well enough to see when something wasn't right. "You're still ill." 

"It won't go away. Master Dirad said I'd grow out of it someday provided I never tried to Force heal anyone again." 

"I am so sorry," Qui-Gon said. "You shouldn't have--"

"You would have died, MasterJinn." 

__

Again Qui-Gon reached out. A part of him was searching for the missing padawan braid that should have been there. 

Roughly, Obi-Wan shoved Qui-Gon's hand back. "I have things to take care of." He turned to walk away. 

"Another mission?" 

"To find a purpose," Obi-Wan answered with a strange vacancy to his voice. Casting his gaze away, the young Jedi knight turned and walked from Qui-Gon. 

For the last time, the master truly sensed the other's presence. 

__

If he had closed his eyes, the cloaked figure would have vanished. 

Suddenly all Force record of Obi-Wan's presence vanished.


	4. Book of Conversations

__

The Book of Conversations

Obi-Wan tugged at the stiffness of the new cloak. 

Yoda had left it just outside the door of his apartment. A simple message written by an ancient hand was affixed to it. Apparently the little master didn't want him frightening the initiates. 

If that were the case, he shouldn't have insisted Obi-Wan go to the initiate training room.

Slowly he left the safety of his apartment.

The corridor was empty. 

He moved silently through the maze toward the main lifts. Before the door even opened he knew what awaited him and started to withdraw.

"Knight Kenobi," the youthful voice said as Anakin drew his hands together in the sleeves of his cloak and executed a formal bow.

Obi-Wan just stood in the corridor staring into the open lift.

"I was wondering if we could speak?" Anakin asked.

"Your master would not approve."

"He doesn't have to know."

Obi-Wan stepped back from the lift. "I do not intend on being blamed for your betrayal of your master. I will not be a party to your lies."

"I would never lie to my master."

Turning sharply, Obi-Wan marched down the hall. There was a lift on the opposite side. He would take it in peace and avoid the boy all together.

"Knight Kenobi!" Anakin called out, chasing after Obi-Wan.

At first Obi-Wan had imagined Yoda asked the impossible of him by making him visit the initiate training room. He didn't imagine just getting to them would be the real test. 

"Stop!" Anakin yelled. "I've been riding up and down the lift for the last hour waiting for a chance to speak to you. My master has been—"

__

Master. 

That word grated on Obi-Wan's nerves. He hated hearing that word spoken by the boy. The word that had been so casually stolen from him rolled off Anakin's tongue so naturally. 

"I do not like seeing my master so tense."

"What does this have to do with me?" Obi-Wan asked, turning so suddenly it forced the youth to withdraw several steps.

"Everything."

"Did he send you?" Obi-Wan asked rather gruffly.

"No."

"Then go away."

"Knight Kenobi--"

It didn't matter what the boy had to say. Obi-Wan didn't want to hear it. He stormed away at a sharp pace. 

"I am sorry that you and Master don't like each other," Anakin said as he chased after the knight. 

Again Obi-Wan turned. "It's not your problem. It's not your fault," he said in a dry tone.

"Yet I feel like it's my fault."

"It's never going to be your fault. Like everything else, Qui-Gon wouldn't allow it," Obi-Wan said bitterly. "You're his precious chosen one. His legacy."

Anakin just stopped horror set in as he stood there while the Jedi disappeared down the hall. Anger bloomed in him. "You have hurt my Master!" Anakin screamed. "You betrayed him his teachings! Qui-Gon has been nothing but kind to me. He freed me from slavery. He's training me to be a Jedi. I know he was good to you and you have treated him terribly. You've betrayed everything he believed in. You never deserved him as a master!"


	5. Book of Whispers

****

I screwed up. I forgot to post a large paragraph at the end of Chapter 4. You need to go back and read it or other parts of the story might not make sense. It's the last paragraph that is added.

Thanks for all the feedback.

_________________

The Book of Whispers

The viewing platform above the initiate training room was lined with a number of silent Jedi watching the pupils below. Obi-Wan walked silently against the wall not really looking for a break in the line of Jedi who carefully studied the small forms performing their best. 

Rounding a corner to the far wall, Obi-Wan found a space. Reluctantly he stepped up to the cool stone rail and leaned heavily against it. Careful to keep his eyes on the children below, he cast out on the Force, scanning the Jedi around him.

It wouldn't have taken Force sensitivity to feel the apprehension that rippled just under the crowd's surface. They were all well aware of his presence and reputation. And all of them were wondering what brought someone like him to the initiate practice room.

Unconsciously he pulled at the folds of his cloak. The room felt a bit chilly even with all the warm bodies. 

Yoda was out of his little green mind sending him into the middle of all this.

Or worse, the small master was completely lucid. What better place to see yourself but through the eyes of your peers? Even if the other Jedi tried to ignore him, there was a conscious awareness that he was there. 

They tried to mask it, but he could still sense it. 

The question was: Which did they believe had altered him the most? Was it his near fatal healing of Qui-Gon, the falling out with his master or killing of a Sith? A part of him hoped everyone believed it was the Sith that had made him cold. After all, it had been a thousand years since a Jedi had killed one. It would be a more explainable failing.

Obi-Wan's eyes searched the lively movements of the children below.

He didn't need to be there. He wasn't choosing a padawan. 

Didn't want one.

An ache in his chest made him straighten. He shouldn't have said what he did to Anakin.

__

What's another person who hated him?

In the middle of the practice floor, several teams of initiates paired off in a sparring match.

Why did Yoda send him to this torture chamber?

Too many years of his life had been spent on hopes of being taken on as a padawan. Today there were more potential masters than initiates. These children would not have to suffer the rejection he did.

A small dark haired initiate blocked a strike by a larger boy. The dark haired boy stumbled backward, loosing his footing and tumbling to the mats. The glowing orange of a training lightsaber nearly grazed the boy's throat as he rolled out of the way.

Obi-Wan leaned against the marble rail again with interest as the small boy scrambled across the blue mat. He jumped up trying to block but was driven down and the larger boy pressed the orange blade against the side of his neck.

The small initiate sank to his knees, conceding the loss. He quickly rose to his feet and bowed to the winner.

Then immediately the small boy glanced up into the upper deck. His bright green eyes grazed all the watching Jedi. But his gaze stopped on Obi-Wan briefly before being pulled way into another exhibition.

Obi-Wan stepped back from the railing. He drew the cloak tight and marched off.


	6. Book of Friends

__

The Book of Friends

From the safety of the lift compartment, Obi-Wan stepped out into the hall of his residential floor. Closing his eyes for a moment, he cast out with the Force. 

The hall was empty, as were most of the apartments. Still, that knowledge didn't relieve the tension as he walked silently through the maze toward his quarters. 

Carefully building his shields up and tightening even the slightest fissures in their dense walls he made his way toward the singular disturbance at the edge of his senses.

On Calor V, he had sensed a presence in the catacombs below the legislative building. The familiarity of the signature told him it was a friend. He had let his guard down and it nearly cost him his life. He could still remember lying on the cold floor of the transport as he tried to Force heal two fractured vertebrae.

A chill raged through him and he unconsciously tugged at the edges of his cloak.

Cold, like the reactor room floor in the palace of Theed.

Coarsely reprimanding himself for allowing his thoughts to drift, he turned his attention back to the motionless figure just beyond the corner.

Again he cast out, but whoever it was maintained tight shields. 

Glancing about the corridor, Obi-Wan knew it was too tight a space to effectively handle a lightsaber.

On Calor V it had been a friend waiting for him with a smile and a blaster.

He should have been more careful.

He had put trust in someone where it did not belong.

Without missing a step, Obi-Wan pulled a small vibroshiv from a concealed sheath in his boot. 

Shrugging off his cloak so not to have his movements hindered, he silently stole around the corner. With lightning speed, he grasped and twisted the material of the other's cloak tight in his fist. 

A terrified scream echoed through the hall.

In the space of heartbeat, Obi-Wan had brought the other to their knees. The vibroshiv coming to rest a hair width from the salmon colored throat.

"Obi-Wan, no!" Bant Eerin shrieked.

Snapping his attention to the figure tight in his grip, Obi-Wan quickly released Bant and stumbled away.

Bant's hand trembled as she reached for the wall. She opened her mouth to speak but there were no words. For a long time she wouldn't even raise her gaze to Obi-Wan.

The knight just stood there. The vibroshiv still held in a death grip. He just stared at the trembling form on the floor. Slowly his thoughts cleared.

He was in a residential hallway of the temple.

The temple was safe.

"Bant?"

"I thought I would pay you a visit," the Mon Calamarian said softly as she stilled her mind. With a weak voice she continued, "I guess I should have called ahead, huh?"

Obi-Wan stared down the empty hall. Slowly his grip loosened on the weapon. Carefully he balanced on one foot, raising the other to slip the weapon back into its concealed place in his boot. "You should not be here," he growled as he held an open palm out to her.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Bant said releasing the remains of her fear into the Force as she got to her feet without help. She twisted slightly to face her friend as she adjusted her rumpled healer's smock. "No, really, I'm fine."

Obi-Wan frowned.

"I hate it when you do that," Bant said as she reached down and picked up the canvas travel bag and pulled the strap over her shoulder. "Aren't you going to tell me hello? Or do you try to slit the throat of everyone you meet?"

Obi-Wan shot her a sharp glare. "Go away." Quickly he paced back around the corner and retrieved his cloak. "I don't want you here. Leave," he ordered as he passed.

"No."

He just stared at the defiant Calamari healer.

Bant smiled as she leaned against the wall next to his door. "Well if I had known you would be so happy to see me I would have stopped by yesterday. Instead, silly me, I spoke to a com unit."

As he palmed the door open, he put up an arm to block Bant but she shoved her way in any way. 

"I am not interested in company," Obi-Wan growled.

"I really don't care what you want," Bant responded as she pulled out a portable med kit from the shoulder bag. "Since you refuse to come and see me, then I thought I might pay you a house call."

"Did Yoda put you up to this?"

"Can't I do anything without being coerced?"

The knight frowned and crossed the room to erase the com messages without listening to them.

"There might be something important."

"Unlikely."

"Aren't you going to turn on a light? Or are we supposed to see by the light of the hall?"

An annoyed wave of Obi-Wan's hand brought the lights up low.

She squinted. "Oh, this is an improvement," she said sarcastically closing the door behind her. Noting the hard look Obi-Wan shot her again, she continued. "I want to check your arm."

"It's fine."

Bant took the few short steps and flopped down on the couch. "I'll just be sitting here, waiting."

"Get comfortable."

"You owe me," Bant said. "After all, you almost killed me out there."

"Shouldn't have been sneaking up on me." Obi-Wan paced behind the couch.

"I wasn't."

"You were shielded."

"So?" Bant twisted where she sat to better face the prowling figure. "You know that's why they're keeping you here."

"Does the entire temple know?"

"What do you think?" She sighed. "Obi-Wan, you scare people. Force knows why." She rubbed her throat for effect. "What has happened to you?"

Obi-Wan stopped his pacing and stared into Bant's silvery eyes. There was a long silence before he finally shook his head. "Nothing. Everything. Go away."

"No."

An exasperated sigh was the only reply Obi-Wan had.

Bant studied her hand and realized it was still shaking. She turned her attention back to her friend who had folded himself back into the confines of his cloak. "Tell me you can't be cold? It's too warm in here."

Silently Obi-Wan marched back to the door and palmed it open. "Leave."

Still, Bant refused to remove herself from the couch. She twisted slightly to stare at the empty walls. "You should try decorating."

"I like it this way."

"Unless you intend on dragging me out, shut the door," Bant said calmly. Her tone lightened. "If you have some free time this week we should go down the bazaar and do a little shopping. Liven this place up. After all, you're going to be here for a while."

"I want to be alone."

"You've had nearly three and a half years to be alone. I want to visit with you."

"Another time."

Bant sank deeper into the couch. "I'm worried about you."

Knowing his friend was infinitely stubborn when she wanted to be, Obi-Wan gave a loud sigh and let the door swoosh closed.

The young healer patted the empty side of the couch. "Sit down, I want to check out your arm."

"It's fine," he shook his head.

"Your arm--"

"Forget about it!" Obi-Wan roared.

Without a moment of hesitation, Bant was on her feet. Her salmon colored skin flushed with her irritation. The edges of her healer's smock clung slightly to everything in the cramped apartment as she stormed up to the knight.

Anger flashed across her usually gentle expression as she struck out, the palm of her hand connecting hard with Obi-Wan's cheek. Barely slowing she drew her hand back to slap him again.

Instantly Obi-Wan had her wrist imprisoned in a tight grip. 

"You are the most infuriating creature I have ever met!" A determined look danced in Bant's silver eyes as she reached out with her free hand and jammed a finger deep into the cut in Obi-Wan's arm.

Obi-Wan cried out as what had been a dull throb suddenly turned into searing pain. His knees buckled with the white hot pain and he fell against the couch. Never once did he loosen his grip on Bant's wrist and drug her down with him.

Quickly, Bant pulled her wrist free and tugged on the cloak and until she had pulled it from his shoulder. "I don't know if you had noticed, but you bled clear through your tunic sleeve." 

"Don't," Obi-Wan argued weakly as he tried to pull free of her even though he was still reeling from the pain.

"I'm going to take care of your arm. You want to fight me, fine. I'll put you out so hard that it will take a week for you to wake up." 

Ignoring her warning, Obi-Wan pushed Bant back and started to struggled to his feet.

Again the healer jammed her thumb deep into the red stained tunic. This time though she didn't easily let go.

Another cry of pain as Obi-Wan surrendered, crashing back into the floor. His face buried deep in the couch cushions.

"It's really infected," Bant said without even needing to visually inspect the wound. Easily she unlatched his utility belt and pulled the tunic loose, freeing his arm and shoulder.

"Don't–"

She suddenly stopped. 

Obi-Wan had buried his face in the couch cushion so he didn't have to see the horror and disappointment in her silver eyes. 

"No." A sob hitched in her throat. "Why?" She brushed back a wisp of his ginger hair. "Why?" The word almost sounded angry. "Why?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer her question because he couldn't. Even he couldn't explain why.

For a second time, Bant realized her hand was shaking, but this time it wasn't out of fear. A salmon colored hand gently pressed against formerly shattered ribs. She sensed that some were still mending. Her healer's training allowed her to feel the long history of serious injuries. She couldn't help the horror in her voice. "Some of these ribs have been broken four or five times and that's just in the last few years."

Bant fought to calm her raging emotions. "What have you done to yourself?" she whispered as she studied the blood stained bandage on his arm briefly. Her attentions returned to the map of injuries across his body. 

Moving slightly and twisting Obi-Wan, she turned her focus to the burns and scars that ran from the base of his neck all the way down his back. Again her breath hitched at the sight of two heavy scars that ran across his lower back. She probed the injury and found mended vertebrae. "You nearly broke your back?"

When he didn't answer, Bant reached out and took Obi-Wan's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "When did you hurt your back? Obi-Wan, answer me. When did this happen?"

Warm tears spilled down Obi-Wan's cheeks but he said nothing, only buried his face again.

"That's why you never come to the healing center. You don't want anyone to see this." Her fingers brushed through his tussled ginger hair. Her voice cracked as she spoke, "I wish I had known sooner. I would have made them stop sending you on those terrible missions."

"Bant," the voice was muffled. He didn't want her to see that. Didn't want her to know.

"When did you hurt your back?"

"It's healed," he said softly.

"Not well enough." Bant studied the scars. Through the Force, she could sense the deep lines in the bone. "When?"

Obi-Wan stared at her for a long time but said nothing.

"If you don't answer me, I'll file for a medical inquiry."

Fear flashed in the lifeless blue of his eyes. 

"When?" Bant pressed.

"A year ago."

For a long time, Bant just sat silently. Sadness reflected in her eyes. Coming out of her daze she studied the stained bandages that protected Obi-Wan's injured arm. "At least I can heal this," she said softly, fighting back another sob. Gently she peeled away the wrap and grimaced at the infection.

"It's good and infected," she whispered as she pressed the palm of her hand to Obi-Wan's forehead. "You've got a mild fever, but if we don't take care of it now, you'll really be sick before morning."

Obi-Wan refused to look at her.

Silently Bant brushed her fingers through Obi-Wan's ginger hair as her mind sought the right words. "Why have youyou let yourselfI don't understand."

He sat up slightly but didn't do anything to impair her work. 

Bant retrieved the med kit and gently began cleaning the wound. She noticed that Obi-Wan didn't even flinch as she applied the cleanser.

"Does your back bother you?" she asked.

"No more than anything else."

The answer brought a frown to Bant's face. After a long silence, she closed her eyes and centered herself. When she felt prepared the healer reached out and gently pressed her hands to the gash.

"Don't," Obi-Wan growled as he tried to pull away.

Ignoring the protest, Bant drew the Force to her and guided it through her hands into the wound to heal it.

"Don't!" Obi-Wan snapped as he roughly shoved Bant backwards. "Never do that," came a terse warning.

Bant leaned back against the couch but just sat there and stared at him in surprise. The expression faded to understanding as she stood up and retrieved the fallen cloak. When she turned back, Obi-Wan had curled up and was shivering slightly. Gently she dragged the cloak over him, tucking it beneath his bearded chin before she sank to the edge of the couch.

"I forgot," she said simply. 

"No more healing," Obi-Wan responded.

"This is different," Bant whispered. "Just a little help in healing."

"No. I know what it does," the knight responded, wrapping himself deeper in the folds of his cloak. "It doesn't matter if it's a little or a lot. Still makes you cold. I don't want anyone to heal me. I know what it does."

Bant just frowned. "What happened to you is no different than any injury. You really injured yourself when you healed him." She was careful not to mention Qui-Gon's name. 

"No healing."

"There's got to be something someone can do to help you."

"I don't want help."

"You're so stubborn." She pulled a roll of bandages from the med kit. "We'll do this the other way, all right?"


	7. Book of Clouded Visions

__

The Book of Clouded Visions

Jedi Master and Senior Council member Mace Windu stepped off the lift and glanced around the empty corridor. Casting out with the Force and scanning the halls he smiled satisfied that he was alone. It was still too early for the other Council members. Which was fine by Mace's standards. He enjoyed the bit of peace the council level offered him early in the mornings. 

On his trek past the offices he paused at a window. The bright white sun cast it's cleansing light over the towers of the immense temple. 

Taking in a deep breath, Mace relaxed and released the pent up air as well as any lingering anxieties. Certain he was ready for another day of discussions of theory, handing out and checking up on various missions, as well as all the other little things that made up the bulk of his administrative day.

A part of the council member wondered where he had stepped away from the life of a field Jedi and became a purveyor of red tape. Even though he missed the regular missions, he knew his place was serving on the Council where he could do the most good.

Slowly Mace turned his attentions from the distant cityscape back to the corridor that led to the Council Chambers. 

Gently pressing his hand against one of the massive Force dampening doors he pushed. One of the few doors in all the temple that actually swung open. He rather enjoyed the two large doors. They made him think of a time before technology when the Jedi of long ago had only themselves to depend on. When the technological world didn't interfere with the workings of the Force.

He could only imagine what it was like to hear the whispers so clearly. 

Hobbling across the patterned tile was Master Yoda. He thumped his gimer stick loudly as he continued to pace. "Late you are."

"I imagined I was early."

Yoda stopped and stared at the tall master for a moment. He exhaled loudly as he drew his ears back in agitation. "What news have you?"

"Well good morning to you," Mace said as he crossed the room in a few long strides. 

The little master turned and sighed. "Morning it is." He leaned heavily against the crook of his walking stick and stared at the other man silently.

"Apparently you got what you wanted," Mace said slowly as he sat in his seat and stared at the small green figure in the center of the chamber. "Kenobi was sighted at the initiate training rooms."

"And?"

Mace slowly crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "He didn't stay long."

Again Yoda sighed loudly as he shook his head. "Being difficult, he insists on."

"There is more, Master." Mace was silent for a moment as he studied the figure before him.

"Afraid of him, many are." It was a statement, one that Yoda had himself only begun to accept. In his extraordinary lifetime he had never seen a Sith. He like all the other Jedi only had written or spoken word accounts of what a servant of the dark side was like. For all the things he had seen or done in his lifetime, nothing could compare to the act of confronting a Sith, let alone killing it. That alone, he knew, was enough to cause great concern. "Driven a wedge between himself and everyone else, he has."

"We did not help in the matter," Mace said softly.

Large, sad eyes met Mace's. "At time, choice we had not."

"I agree," Mace said plainly, not offering to argue with the small master. "That decision is in the past. Nothing we can do to change it. But we both knew the Leotan Resistance would have killed those hostages. The holy war that would have ensued would have been devastating to the galaxy. Knight Kenobi was there and we knew he was capable of quietly removing the hostages safely."

Again Yoda sighed loudly. "Mistake we made."

"I do not consider that a mistake."

"Hmm," Yoda was quietly contemplative for a long time. "To continue in these missions, allowing him, was a mistake. Requesting these dangerous missions, he was. Stopped it, we should have."

"I agree." Mace shifted slightly. "Nor, for a time did we feel we had reason to be concerned," he said as if justifying the Council's decision. "His tactics, while harsh, have never been brought into question."

"Concerned about tactics, I am not." Yoda hobbled to his seat in the circle of twelve. 

"Master, while appreciate your concern for Knight Kenobi, I do not feel this should be played out through the Council."

"Waste of time you think this is?" Yoda asked gruffly.

"Master–"

"Too busy, the Council is?" Yoda chuckled softly as he settled into his seat.

"I agree with you that he should not be allowed on anymore of those missions. At least for a while. I agree that he is becoming dangerous, not only to himself but everyone around him." Mace studied the little master for a long time. "I also appreciate the fact too many in the temple considered him a wild animal waiting for that moment to rip the arm off the first person to cross him. I understand these concerns because I also share them. We should see that he attends to the soul healers and be done with it. When he is ready for missions, we will send him on one. This is a game we should not be playing."

"Game?" Yoda squinted the agitation in his voice and animated actions all too apparent. "Game this is not." He roughly thumped his gimer stick against the side of his chair. 

Mace warily straightened. Rarely had he seen Yoda anything but calm.

"Unsettling changes I have sensed," the small master said slowly.

"I thought you said the future was clouded?"

"Still it is."

Mace leaned against the side of his chair to better face the small master. "Yet you sense something."

"Clouded it is." Yoda closed his eyes and shook his head. "Things are not as it should be," he said softly. Then he spoke rather gruffly. "Always in motion, the future is. Accept that we must."

"But?"

"Concerned for Kenobi, I am. Lost he is. In the stream of things, his place hasshifted."

"I understand, but–"

"Still need him. Sensed this I do."


	8. Book of Frightened

__

The Book of the Frightened

Through the nearly empty corridor, small footsteps crept.

Voices echoed through the ancient hall and the padding of little feet came to a halt. Until the voices had receded there was no movement.

Slowly the footfalls began again.

A small form stepped out from behind a pillar and glanced nervously down the corridor. Bright green eyes blinked a few times before closing. A relieved sigh escaped the eight year old. Yet, the boy retreated behind the pillar again.

Casting out on the Force, he searched the hallway.

When he was certain it was safe, the initiate stepped back out from the pillar and walked silently through the hall. In his hands he clutched the strap of his study pack. A sound from behind made the little boy double his pace as he raced to the atrium ahead.

Just before reaching the corner, something snagged the boy's arm. A surprised cry as the dark haired initiate was tossed backward. His bag skittered across the smooth tile as he twisted, reaching for it.

"Bali, Bali, Bali," taunted the attacker.

"Leave me alone," the little boy said as he scrambled toward his pack.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Bali cried out as the larger boy reached out and grabbed his leg. Kicking fiercely he tried to free himself of the tight grip even as he was drug backward across the floor. "Leave me alone, Daen," Bali cried.

The twelve year old initiate only smiled at the terror he had instilled. "I told you I would get you," Daen Lebo hissed. "You made me look like a fool yesterday in front of all the potential masters."

"I didn't–"

Daen clutched Bali's arm and yanked the little boy to his feet. "Yes, you did! I would have shown them how good I was if you hadn't bumped into me."

"It was an accident," Bali cried as he tried to twist his way free of the tight grip. "I got pushed. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." 

Not listening to the boy's apology, Daen drew back free hand into a tight fist. "I warned you about getting in my way," he growled. The fist flew forward and popped Bali in the face.

Bali's eyes teared up as he ground his teeth trying not to cry out in pain. He struggled but was smashed in the nose. Immediately a trickling sensation jarred him as warm blood flowed from his nose and over his lip. "It was an accident," Bali mumbled as he steeled himself for another blow.

"You cost me a master!" Daen growled through clenched teeth.

The tight fist flew forward.

Bali flinched but it was Daen that screamed.

"This behavior denied you a master!" Obi-Wan said sharply nearly pulling Daen off his feet by the wrist.

Suddenly the blond haired boy shrank back but his wrist remained imprisoned. "I'm sorry!" His eyes wide with fear as he struggled to free himself of the tight grip. "I'm sorry!"

"You will be after your supervisor hears of this," the knight shot back tersely.

"No," Daen bawled, but the terror never left his eyes. "They'll cast me out," he wept. "No. I don't want to be cast out."

"You should have thought about that before beating up on someone half your size." Roughly Obi-Wan released the twelve year old initiate's wrist. Daen stumbled back a few steps, knocking Bali off his feet. Obi-Wan never took his gaze from Daen. He spoke slowly but his tone never lacked in absolute authority. "Report to your supervisor and tell him in detail what you were doing. If he hears it from you than me, he might go easier on you."

"Yes, sir." Daen sniffed as he withdrew a step from the menacing figure.

"Go."

Obi-Wan stood there silently watching the blond haired boy sprint down the hall. He allowed a loud sigh. Couldn't have scared the boy more it he had tried.

When Daen was sufficiently away, Obi-Wan shrugged into the folds of his cloak, pulling it tight. Slowly he turned to see the small, dark haired initiate pressing a hand to his bleeding nose as he reached for the pack that laid near the wall.

Suddenly Bali looked up with wide, tear rimmed eyes. A glassy green met the knight. Bali shook as he nervously reached for his pack. Blood had run down over his lip and dribbled deep red down the front of his creamy tunic.

Obi-Wan took a step toward the boy, but the little initiate pressed himself against the wall. Bali held a hand up, trying to hold back the flow of blood.

Slowly Obi-Wan glanced back down the hall, hoping some kind soul was approaching who could help. There was no one. Sighing he turned his attention to the boy that had plastered himself against the wall.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

Bali nodded quickly. The fear emanated from the boy in waves. 

Obi-Wan wished he knew exactly what the source was. Most likely, though, he knew it was him. After a moment of hesitation, he knelt in the middle of the corridor so he appeared less imposing to the small child. "Funny," he said gently, "you don't look all right."

The initiate slid along the wall in an attempt to escape.

Aware that the boy was likely terrified, Obi-Wan relaxed and tried to present a calming presence. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy's fear radiated out, lashing against Obi-Wan's carefully erected mental barriers. Without warning, Obi-Wan slammed his shields down the instant the invasion of the small boy's mind was detected.

Bali squeaked in surprise and bolted down the hall as fast as his short legs would carry him leaving Obi-Wan kneeling alone in the hall.


	9. Books of Lessons Learned, Temple Ghosts ...

__

The Book of Lessons Learned

With arms folded across his chest, the Jedi Master silently watched his apprentice. He contemplated whether he should disturb the boy's studies. Realizing that if he didn't make his peace with the situation, he never would.

"Padawan." 

So much emotion lay in three syllables. Qui-Gon Jinn's hopes, his dreams, lay in that one word. 

A position in an ancient order.

A name of affection.

For a long time, he just stood there, watching.

"Yes, Master?" Anakin twisted in his desk chair and smiled. 

"You disobeyed me," he said sternly. Be firm with the boy, show him that he was wrong.

The youth appeared innocent as he stared up at the tall master. A little frown graced his features as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry, my Master."

"You were told to stay away from Knight Kenobi."

"Yes, Master." Anakin's bright blue eyes found Qui-Gon's stern expression as he stood. His arms flailing about as he tried to explain, "I was only trying to be helpful."

"That kind of help I do not need." Qui-Gon grimaced at the brief look of frustration that fluttered across Anakin's features. He eased his expression and gave the youth a gentle smile.

Every urge in the venerable master pushed him to ask what was said but he fought it and remained stoic. Yet, the concern crept into his voice, "You came out of it all right, then?" After all, even he heard the rumors of the confrontation.

"I'm not looking forward to riding in a lift anytime soon."

A touch of laughter echoed in Qui-Gon's voice. "My padawan, while I appreciate the gesture, it is not for you to mend a broken relationship."

"Do you think you ever will?" There seemed to be an edge of tension in the question.

"I doubt it." The Jedi master leaned heavily against the doorframe and studied the apprentice.

Anakin gave him a weak smile. Then a strange vulnerability encircled the boy. "I can do no wrong, can I?"

The question startled Qui-Gon and the master straightened. "What do you mean?"

"Obi-Wan, I mean Knight Kenobi, said you won't let me make mistakes."

A grimace tainted Qui-Gon's serene expression. 

________________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part II

"Do you have a moment, Master?" 

"Of course, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon smiled as he sat down on the edge of the couch. Casually he motioned toward the facing chair. 

Obi-Wan stared at it a moment. Folding himself deeper in the layers of his cloak before he sank to the edge of the chair. For a moment, he was thankful just to sit down. What little strength he had gained through his recovery was never enough. "My trials are scheduled–"

The door swished open and nine year old Anakin bounded into the room. "Hi Obi-Wan!" he half laughed as he bounced into the couch disrupting it to the point of nearly knocking Qui-Gon off. "Guess what I did!" 

The lines in Qui-Gon's face creased in a warm smile as he gently calmed the boy with a large, yet gentle hand. "Now padawan," _he whispered to the little boy, "calm down."_

A chill raced down Obi-Wan's spine stealing the last bit of warmth he had managed to cling to through the ordeal of recovering from the battle with the Sith. Or more importantly getting over what his near fatal attempt at healing Qui-Gon's injury had done to his own body. 

Qui-Gon's attention focused on the fidgeting child seated next to him. "Now Ani, settle down for a moment, Obi-Wan was speaking." 

The boy made a face and sat there impatiently. 

"Go on," Qui-Gon said turning his attention back to his apprentice. 

"It's not important," Obi-Wan said irritably as he stood up and started for his room. Well, not entirely his room anymore. The desk was covered with Anakin's few belongings from Tatooine and a small collection of stuff he had collected since arriving on Coruscant. Droid parts covered the desk and floor, which the boy had made a makeshift workbench. All he wanted was to sit back down and rest in peace and quiet. Not listen to that boy who didn't know when to be quiet.

"It must have been if you brought it up," Qui-Gon reasoned.

For a moment, Obi-Wan just hesitated and studied his master with the boy. He could see it in Qui-Gon's expression. He looked more fondly on the nine year old every day. Qui-Gon's near dying words had been all about the boy. He had forgiven his master for that. More or less accepted what had happened and went on in reality. When he woke from the coma, he knew he wouldn't take on a padawan. He also knew the moment Anakin barreled up to Qui-Gon in the infirmary that Qui-Gon was fully intent on taking the boy as his apprentice after him.

After him.

__

"I'll discuss it later." 

"Anything you can say to me can be said in front of Anakin."

Obi-Wan turned, tugging at the edges of his cloak. The boy was standing right behind Qui-Gon listening intently. Complete adoration filled the Anakin's eyes as he stared up at the tall master. "It wasn't important," Obi-Wan stressed. 

Qui-Gon caught his arm. "You've been acting out of sorts lately. I know you're still not feeling well. Believe me, I understand." He gently pressed the palm of his hand to his chest where the Sith had driven the glowing red blade of his lightsaber through the Jedi master. 

Shaking his head slightly, Obi-Wan started to withdraw to his room. He hesitated a moment and caught the squirming boy's impatient look. "I believe he _is dying to tell you something," he said coldly. _

At the slightest glance from the tall master, Anakin quickly spoke up, "Mister Qui-Gon, sir, guess what I did!" 

"Just a moment, Anakin," Qui-Gon said catching Obi-Wan by the arm again. "Anakin is having a rough time adjusting." 

"He looks fine to me," was the cool response. 

"Obi-Wan–"

"Don't." Obi-Wan pulled away. "I have to study–"

"Don't you want to hear what I did today?" Anakin pressed tugging on a piece of Qui-Gon's tunic. 

Qui-Gon knelt and stared the boy in the eyes. "I'll bet you went swimming." 

Anakin's face lit up. "Wow. Is that a Jedi trick?" 

"No," Qui-Gon chuckled as he ran his hand through the boy's thick, damp hair. "You're still wet." 

"Oh." 

Qui-Gon raised his hand slightly. "Just give me a moment and then we'll go to the cafeteria."

"Okay," Anakin said as he twitched with nervous energy.

"Now, Obi-Wan," the Jedi master said as he stood up. "Please, what were you going to say?"

For a long moment, Obi-Wan just stood there silently. Finally accepting he had his master's attention again he began, "My trials–"

"Can I get some ice cream too, Mister Qui-Gon, sir?" Anakin interrupted.

The instant Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the boy, Obi-Wan snapped, "I have to study, so why don't you take that pathetic–"

With a speed quicker than expected for a man his age, Qui-Gon Jinn struck out, smacking Obi-Wan hard across the face. 

The apprentice didn't know which hurt more, the sudden sting across his cheek or slamming into the floor. 

"Am I pathetic?" came a small voice.

"No, Anakin," Qui-Gon said taking the boy by the hand. "Obi-Wan is not thinking clearly. He still doesn't feel well and doesn't mean what he's saying." After a moment of silence, "Let's go for a walk." He offered the child a gentle smile and sent reassuring waves through the Force in Anakin's direction. "And of course, we'll get you a big bowl of ice cream." 

"Oh, boy!" Anakin cheered. 

Clumsily Obi-Wan wiped the tears away but made no attempt to stand from his crumpled position. His breath was held tight until he was sure his master and the boy were out of the apartment and far down the hall before allowing the terrible, painful sobs to wrack his shivering form.


	10. Books of Pauses, Meddling Troll

__

The Book of Pauses

Qui-Gon stormed through the Temple's central corridor. His agitation was evident in the quick clip of his pace and the constant clutching of his fists. He paid little attention to the other figures moving quietly about the long hall.

Their expressions meant nothing to him.

He didn't care if they noticed the rage fluttering just beneath his usually placid surface.

Breathing deeply he tried to calm himself. Naturally it didn't work. He cast out on the Force searching the immense temple for a signature that had once been familiar.

One that he could no longer understand.

The meditating gardens.

Qui-Gon almost laughed at that. Where else would Obi-Wan be? He didn't need the Force to tell him that.

Still, he sought out his former apprentice's signature just to be certain.

With every step, Qui-Gon worked to squash the rage that had flourished in him. 

He was failing miserably.

All he could think of was the questioning, wounded look Anakin had when told him of the confrontation with Obi-Wan.

__

Was it not enough that Obi-Wan had betrayed him before the Council?

Even after all this time, his former apprentice still felt it necessary to attack Anakin.

Again, Qui-Gon drew both his hands into tight fists.

This was going to end and this would end now.

Turning a corner he slammed into Mace Windu.

Both men stared at each other.

"What's the hurry?" Mace asked, sensing the raging emotions the Jedi master was doing little to hide.

"Excuse me," Qui-Gon half growled as he tried to step around the council member. 

Mace put out his arm blocking his friend. "I don't think I like this."

"You probably won't," the graying Jedi master said continuing on.

"Stop," Mace ordered, grabbing Qui-Gon's arm. 

"Let me go."

Both men met in a long gaze. 

"Let me give you a piece of advice," Mace said calmly. "Go meditate." He loosened his grip on Qui-Gon's arm. "You two haven't been in the temple for two days and you're already stirring up trouble."

"I've warned him about messing with Anakin!"

Mace eyed his friend. "I was under impression that Anakin sought the confrontation."

"He thought he was helping. He thinks we should reconcile. But Anakin didn't deserve to be attacked like he was."

There was a moment of silence as Mace studied Qui-Gon. "Half a dozen reports came in of Anakin screaming in the corridors. He was saying something to the effect that Obi-Wan had betrayed you."

Qui-Gon drew in a deep breath as he cast his gaze away from Mace. "He should not have been voicing such a private opinion in such a public manner."

"Oh, I see," Mace said, contemplatively rubbing his chin. "You share this opinion?"

"This is not a concern for the Council," Qui-Gon said stiffly.

"It is if you're out to pick a fight. Qui, I appreciate that there are some hard feelings between you and Obi-Wan. But I will not stand by and allow this temple to become a battle ground in your personal war."

"Mace—"

"No. You will go and meditate. If I sense so much as a ripple I'll personally toss you off the nearest balcony. Are we clear?"

Qui-Gon stood there silently.

"Are we clear?"

"Yes."

______________

__

The Book of the Meddling Troll

Loneliness.

It came in waves like the shifting sands of Tatooine.

Try as Obi-Wan might, he was never able to bury the memory of the desert planet.

It often came to him. Tainting his sleep. Corrupting his meditations. 

The sand never went away like the heat of the dual suns.

The only warmth he had left.

When the images, the heat, of Tatooine came to him in his meditations so did the silence.

The emptiness.

The loneliness.

The powerlessness of it all.

"No," he groaned as he fought to drag himself from the depths of the haunted meditation. Too often he felt himself lost in a never ending sea of sand.

Jerking violently, Obi-Wan lost his balance in his meditative stance and fell backward into the thick grass of the meditating garden.

Exhausted by the exertion to escape the meditative nightmare he just lay there and stared up into the thick, red and gold foliage of the ancient yawen tree that sheltered him. A loud sigh escaped even as he studied the gently shifting leaves.

"Time to sleep, this is not," Yoda chuckled as he hobbled across the grassy plain of the meditating garden. 

"I wasn't," Obi-Wan growled as he pushed himself back into his meditative stance. He didn't offer the little master even a glance.

Yoda sighed loudly. "Still the visions come?"

"Or dreams. Or madness. What ever you want to call them," Obi-Wan said sharply as he roughly pulled the protective layer of his cloak tight. "I don't want to discuss them."

"Ready, you are not, understand I do." Still, the little master stood silent as if waiting for the knight to change his mind. Finally, Yoda sat down on one of the large roots that ran across the ground providing him a perfectly scaled chair. "Bali Tiro."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and just stared at Yoda.

"The little initiate."

Nodding slowly, Obi-Wan understood who Yoda was referring too. The last image he had was of the little boy fleeing down the hall wiping away a bloody nose. "Is he all right?" He whispered softly yet coolly.

"Fine, yes." Yoda stared at the knight kneeling in a meditative stance before him. "Confessed all, the other boy did."

Indifference clouded the knight's aura. "Good."

"Humph," Yoda grumbled as he leaned heavily against his gimer stick. "Think of the boy, you do?"

"No, Master."

"Humph!" Yoda jammed the gimer stick into Obi-Wan's arm. The knight flinched but didn't give the sought after yelp. Ignoring the fierce look Obi-Wan shot him, Yoda continued, "Hard working, the boy is." 

"Most padawan's are," Obi-Wan said dully.

"Reclusive. Someone else reminds me of." Yoda went on irritably as he considered Obi-Wan's reaction. "Hard it will be finding him a good master."

"I am not interested in taking on a padawan," Obi-Wan said coldly.

Yoda squinted as he drew his ears back. For a long time he studied the other man. "Sense it I do."

Obi-Wan stared at the little master for a moment. "Sense what?"

"Fear."

"You are mistaken, Master."

"Am I?" Yoda asked indignantly. "Closed yourself off, you have."

"Master—"

Yoda struck out with his gimer stick and smacked Obi-Wan against his sore arm eliciting a wince. "Touched his mind, didn't you?"

"No, Master—"

"Blocked him."

Agitated with the line of questioning, Obi-Wan turned his attention away from the little green master.

Again Yoda was silent as he contemplated the figure before him. Sighing loudly Yoda spoke up again, "Small for his age, he is. Bright. Hard working."

"It does no good to extol his virtues to me. You should speak to another master who is willing to take on a padawan." He was quiet for a moment realizing he was a little sharp with the master. Sighing loudly he shifted back slightly as he tried to explain, "I don't attend to missions that would be appropriate for a padawan."

"Dangerous missions." Yoda breathed. "More you have taken in four years than most masters take in a lifetime." Yoda slipped from the root and hobbled over to the knight. A small green hand rested next to the bandaged wound on Obi-Wan's arm. "This life was never meant for you."

Obi-Wan pulled his cloak a little tighter.

The action did not go unnoticed by Yoda. "You have lost your way along the path."

A deep frown creased Obi-Wan's tired face.

"A routine you must find. Return to center you must," Yoda advised.

"I don't think I can handle this life again."

"Forgotten how to live, you have."


	11. Book of Confrontations

__

The Book of Confrontations

Yoda's words still clung to Obi-Wan. With long, deep breaths, he fought to shake them.

The knight was convinced the little master had gone completely mad trying to push Bali Tiro on him.

He was the last person who needed to think about taking on a padawan learner, especially that one.

Slowly the doors of the lift opened and he found himself staring into the corridor of his residential floor. For a long time he just stood there and stared blankly across the hall at the wall.

Yoda was wrong to think he would be interested in a padawan. The only thing he wanted was to be sent away on another mission, but he knew that would have been a fruitless argument with that meddling troll.

Still, it didn't change how he felt.

He was needed. Out there. Where others shouldn't be risked. 

He didn't belong there, rotting in the temple.

Wrapping himself deeper in the folds of his cloak, he finally stepped out of the lift and into the corridor. 

He could leave. Take his meager belongings and walk away. 

And then what?

He would be abandoning the Order.

What would he be then?

A frustrated, helpless laugh escaped him. He would be alone. Which was all he ever really wanted. No meddling troll, no Bant, no little initiate and definitely no Qui-Gon Jinn.

In his agitated state he barely noticed how empty the floor was. Didn't really care. There was no one bothering him, no one to tell him how he should be or what he should do.

He quietly walked along the corridor. His pace even as he made the automatic, yet necessary turns to his quiet little corner of the floor.

First thing in the morning he would go before the Council and beg them for another mission.

A fist shot out around the corner and Obi-Wan barely had the forewarning to side step the crushing blow. In an automatic, yet fluid motion, he activated his lightsaber in response to the attack. Carefully honed survival instincts drove the knight to strike at his assailant.

The blue of his lightsaber met with the grinding of a well-timed block by the glowing green blade of Qui-Gon's weapon.

Surprise briefly fluttered across Obi-Wan's usually staid expression before being dampened into cool determination as he twisted his saber free. Feinting left, he struck right but Qui-Gon knew the fighting style all too well to be fooled. 

Blocking and parrying, the tall master drove his former apprentice backward through the narrow corridor. The confrontation, with weapons hot, didn't bother the master in the slightest. The tight passage would make the fight tougher but he had been in worse situations and this time he knew his opponent's failings all too well. 

Not one word passed between the two men as the battle raged on.

The Force swirled between them with agitation.

Qui-Gon drove forward but Obi-Wan blocked the blow.

Lightsabers crackled and clashed.

The older Jedi landed a swift kick to Obi-Wan's jaw, sending the young knight tumbling backward. His weapon flew from his hand and rolled across the floor.

Deftly, Qui-Gon twisted his saber hilt in his hand and without hesitation drove the weapon down on his opponent.

Shifting just enough, Obi-Wan avoided being impaled as he leapt to his feet. Calling his weapon to his hand the blue blade flashed to life as the knight turned back on the master.

Quick reflexes saved Qui-Gon as he parried. A quick thrust of the green blade tore through Obi-Wan's cloak sleeve, singeing the tunic beneath.

Turning, Obi-Wan shrugged the cumbersome material off. Wadding it up he threw it at the master. The momentary distraction was enough for Obi-Wan to gain the upper hand. 

Qui-Gon struggled just to block the flurry of strikes that left smoldering marks about his creamy tunic. He was still furious and nothing Mace had said meant anything. He barked, "I warned you to keep your distance from Anakin!" Without another word he lashed out, striking menacingly powerful blows in the narrow corridor. The tip of his lightsaber skimmed the walls and ceiling.

The limited space of the narrow hall severely cramped Obi-Wan's fighting style but he still managed to defend himself.

Moved by the memory of Anakin's wounded look Qui-Gon strove forward. 

Sabers locked and slid down to their respective hilts but neither man conceded.

Ginger hair was plastered to Obi-Wan's sweat dampened forehead. Shifting and twisting Obi-Wan landed the heel of his boot square to Qui-Gon's chest. 

Air exploded from the older man's lungs as the tall master was catapulted backward. He hit the ground with a loud _oomph_. Still clutching the saber hilt, he brought it up to defend himself.

Obi-Wan brought his own lightsaber down hard, meeting Qui-Gon's block. Without hesitation he slid the blue blade along the green, drug it under and with the flick of his wrist pulled the defensive green blade back. A swift step forward and Obi-Wan had his former master's weapon wrist pinned to the floor by his foot.

Qui-Gon just lay there on the floor breathing heavily as he stared up at the cold blue eyes. Each breath came shallow and painful. The kick to the chest had really hurt.

The empty, distant look in Obi-Wan's eyes didn't shift as he slowly brought his saber forward. The blue blade grazed close to Qui-Gon's exposed neck. Lightly the tip nicked and singed the base of the master's neatly trimmed beard. The knight's hand trembled slightly with the tenseness of his muscles.

All it took was the slightest provocation and he would permanently end the fight.

Qui-Gon remained perfectly still.

Perfectly focused on the empty, dead eyes that stared at him from behind the glow of Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that the empty look was his fault. 

All Qui-Gon could do was stare at the pale blue eyes. The light had long since fled them and with it, so had the spirit that had once been his padawan.

He hated the eyes of the stranger that stood before him.

Withdrawing from the thoughts, Qui-Gon slowly closed his own eyes, unwilling to be burdened by the image before him. He had long since buried those feelings and didn't want to revisit the pain that was associated with those thoughts.

Still, even in the darkness, those damning, haunted eyes never relented.

Suddenly Obi-Wan deactivated his saber and withdrew a few steps. "This confrontation is over," he said coolly as he turned to walk away.

Qui-Gon quickly sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest, his fingers tightening around the saber hilt. "I know–"

"You know nothing!" Obi-Wan roared, turning to glare at the man still on the floor. "If you did you wouldn't be standing here." He turned his attention to his own weapon that he still clutched. Sadness permeated his expression as he slowly clipped the silver cylinder to his utility belt. Slowly he knelt down and picked up the discarded cloak and examined the burn in the sleeve. 

A slight frown. 

Without offering Qui-Gon so much as a glance, Obi-Wan wandered quietly back toward his apartment. There was no hesitation in his movements as he slipped into the safety and confines of the small living space.

He didn't care if Qui-Gon was still in the hall.

Didn't care if his former master followed him to the door.

He didn't care.

Behind the safety of the closed door he slid to the floor. Drawing his knees tight against his chest, partially covered by the rumpled cloak, he just sat there. Gently rocking.


	12. Books of the Hunted, Truths, Temple Ghos...

__

The Book of the Hunted

Thunderous footsteps roared through the hall of the Temple. Two boys came to a sudden stop. The older initiates glanced around quickly.

"He was just ahead of us!" Daen Lebo growled. "Where did he go?"

"Come on, Daen," a light brown haired boy said, tugging on the larger's tunic sleeve. "Your transport leaves in an hour. Don't spend it chasing that little loser around the temple."

"I'll do what I want!" Daen barked, ripping his arm free of the other. "If you're not going to help me, then go away."

"Fine," the brown haired boy said softly, retreating.

"Coward!" Daen snapped but quickly turned his attention back to the search. "I know you're here, Bali," he taunted. The twelve year old walked silently through the hall as he cast out with the Force and scanned it. "What do you think you're doing, huh? Shielding? Doesn't matter, Bali, I'll find you."

Suddenly Daen turned his attention up the tall corridor walls. In an open service duct was Bali peeking over the edge.

Daen shot the little boy are sharp look and a toothy grin. "You aren't getting away from me that easily." The initiate ran to the nearest column and bracing himself against the wall, he quickly climbed. At the top of the nearly tall column, Daen hesitated. He held tight for fear of the long fall. Then he realized there was nothing to hold onto to get him across to the service duct. Muscles strained as he tried to figure out how the eight year old had so easily managed the feat.

Bali stuck is head out of the duct again searching the floor. He turned and for a moment looked surprised to see Daen so close.

"Thought you could get away from me," Daen growled.

Bali stuck his tongue out at the other boy and backed into the duct.

Anger welled in Daen and with a burst of strength he threw himself at the open shaft. His fingers clutched the very edge and he struggled to maintain his hold. 

Settling his struggle, Daen focused and pulled himself up into the service shaft. He grinned as he caught Bali's horrified look. "I'm going to make you wish you were never born."

"That's why they kicked you out," Bali squeaked as he crawled backward through the shaft.

"Guess what?" Daen asked as he pressed himself deeper. The tight walls pressed against his shoulder blades. His size made maneuverability near impossible. All he could do was trudge forward and hope for an easy opening. Didn't matter though, as he started to crawl after Bali, all he wanted was to get his hands on the little boy. "If I can't be a Jedi, then I'm going to make sure you can't either."

Bali's small size made turning in the shaft easy and he crawled as fast as he could.

Very quickly though, Daen had managed to catch up with the smaller boy and grabbed Bali by the foot dragging him backward.

The little initiate squealed as he wiggled and managed to kick his shoe free, leaving it in Daen's tight grip.

The shaft was dirty and rough and made little cuts in Bali's palms but the little boy didn't slow down.

"Come back here!" Daen snapped as he chased Bali around another corner. 

The shaft grew narrow and severely slowed Daen's pursuit but did not stop the older boy.

Bali crawled around another corner into another slightly narrower shaft. The walls pressed against him, but he did not allow it to slow him too much.

"Come back here!" Daen screamed as Bali put more distance between them.

Light from a shaft vent caught Bali's eye. He quickly threw himself against it and tumbled out onto the floor of the cafeteria. He scrambled back just as Daen made his leap toward the opening. The large initiate grabbed for Bali, but his reach came up short. Surprise colored the boy's dark eyes. 

Bali scrambled backward unaware of the curious looks of various dining Jedi.

A cry of terror ripped through Daen. "I'm stuck!" The boy howled as he struggled but he was caught in the small shaft opening. "Help!"

As knights and masters ran to the trapped boy's aid, Bali slipped under a nearby table and waited until everyone's attention was focused on Daen.

"Help!" Daen wailed. 

Silently Bali crawled out from the far edge of the table and casually limped away on his one remaining shoe, barely noticed.

______________

__

The Book of Truths

"Need this, I do not," Yoda said irritably the moment the door to Qui-Gon and Anakin's apartment whooshed open. The agitated little master whacked Anakin across the shins to make him step out of the way. Without giving the youth so much as a glance, Yoda hobbled in. "Elsewhere you go. Your master I will speak with privately. Go."

Quickly Anakin glanced back at the solemn figure at the table. "Master?"

Qui-Gon's eyes remained cast to the smooth gray surface. A hand gently pressed to his bruised and aching chest. "It is all right, Padawan. I will find you, later."

It was all the boy needed before fleeing the apartment.

Yoda paid the quiet master little attention as he marched to the couch. "Told you were, not to confront. Listened, you did not. Hear I do of lightsabers drawn."

"Master--"

"Tired of this I am." The irritation was clear in Yoda's gravelly voice. "Emotional padawan you act like." The ancient Jedi paused and stared across the room at his former apprentice. He was annoyed with himself for not foreseeing how severe the problems were.

Qui-Gon never took his gaze from the table. 

It was a rare sight to see the usually serene Yoda in such an agitated manner. But one Qui-Gon had seen before and was unwilling to further provoke Yoda's wrath at the moment.

"Ignored warnings, you did. Sought trouble. Find it did you?"

The tall master eyed the smaller one who had perched himself on the couch. 

Yoda's small green fingers tightened around the walking stick. "Padawan braid or not, answer me you will."

"Master_--_"

"Explanation for confrontation searching for I am not. Found what you wanted?"

There was no answer as the tall master took a deep breath and attempted to squash the building irritation. Slowly he stood from his seat at the table and walked silently through the apartment. His gaze focused on Yoda but he said nothing as he took a seat in the chair across from the couch.

"Happy with yourself, are you?" Yoda asked as he studied the man before him.

"No, Master."

"Hmm."

Sternly Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to passively stand by while Yoda attacked him. "I don't see why this is such a concern of yours or Mace's. The Council has never intervened in other personal disputes between Jedi."

"Oh, the council's doing you think this is?" The little master chuckled to himself. "Place yourself high on a pedestal do you? So important?" Then the stern look returned. "It was not. Attacked, you did. Lightsabers drawn. Concern for the Council it now is."

Qui-Gon stiffened. "What did Knight Kenobi tell you?"

"Spoken he has not." Yoda hesitated searching for any reaction in Qui-Gon's impassive features. There was none. "Refuses to answer pages. Will not answer his door. Spoken to no one he has."

The venerable Jedi master opened his mouth to say something but was silenced.

"My business to know it is. All you need to know," Yoda said curtly.

Qui-Gon ground his teeth.

Leaning forward the little master reached out with his walking stick and popped Qui-Gon in the knee. "Closer," the green creature whispered. 

Warily Qui-Gon obeyed.

Yoda popped him in the forehead with his gimer stick. 

Qui-Gon flinched away rubbing what he was sure would become a large bruise.

"Need this, I do not," Yoda grumbled. "Knock some sense into you I hope."

"Master--"

Yoda waved the gimer stick threateningly. "Disruptive you are. Explain you will."

"Anakin--"

"About, this is not."

Qui-Gon was becoming agitated with every passing moment because he wasn't being allowed to explain anything without constantly being interrupted. "My padawan–"

"Hear this, I will not!" Yoda snapped. "Disrupt my temple over a few harsh words spoken to the boy? This shallow you are not."

Qui-Gon grimaced. "He attacked Anakin."

"Believe that do you?"

"You didn't see the hurt in Anakin's eyes."

"Blind I must be," Yoda said thoughtfully, "just like you."

The little master's words brought another frown to Qui-Gon.

"Not a cause for attacks in the temple."

"I was angry, Master."

"Anger leads to hate."

"Then you are to late in that, Master," Qui-Gon said softly as he stood up and paced the common room.

Yoda stirred his gimer stick without watching the unsettled figure walk the length of the room and turn sharply only to repeat the action. His voice was soft as he spoke, "What crime has young Kenobi committed?"

Qui-Gon just stopped. "You were there in the Council meeting."

Slowly Yoda nodded. "Hurt by that, you were. Answered questions honestly, he did." He ignored the loud huff, Qui-Gon offered and continued. "Wounded yes. I see. Not reason alone for such anger."

"I do not like the person he has become," Qui-Gon growled as he twisted to face the small master.

Satisfied with the response, Yoda leaned back, resting the gimer stick across his lap. His intense study of his former padawan though did not let up.

The tall master shifted like his thirteen year old apprentice when caught acting out of line. He stared across at the small Jedi master. His voice even, carrying all the earned authority, "I will not explain to you or make excuses for how I feel. Accept that and find some other means to be a thorn in my side."

"Insist on defiance if you must. Learn you will a great mistake you have made."

"I have made no mistakes, Master. Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the padawan I once trained. I don't know who he is. I want nothing to do with that cold creature."

"Humph!" Yoda pointed his stick toward the other man as he slipped from the couch and hobbled toward the door. "Confused you are. When we are speaking of the same person will I listen to you."

_____________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part III

Long before he had ever reached the door, Qui-Gon had known.

The pain and emptiness had already settled into his heart even as he stood in the hall and stared at the plain surface of his apartment door.

There was nothing to gain by just standing there and yet, he still hesitated.

As if he waited long enough, everything would change.

It already had but he wasn't quite ready to admit it.

A soft whoosh as the door opened to the quiet apartment. Mentally he tried to bury the apprehension. He was being silly. A Jedi Master allowing fear to rise up over nothing.

Yet the soft whispers of the Force told him something about the apartment was different.

Wrong.

Steeling himself against his suddenly raging emotions Qui-Gon stepped into the silent common room. A soft swish as the door closed behind him.

"Obi-Wan?"

Deep in his heart he already knew there would not be an answer. Visually searching the common room nothing appeared to be amiss, but he still felt it.

It clung to him like the cold.

He couldn't escape it.

Unconsciously he pressed his hand to his chest. The physical wound was almost gone but the memory remained. It had been nearly two months, not enough time to truly heal from what should have been a fatal injury. The pain would go away, eventually. It always did.

For every step deeper into the apartment he wanted to take two farther away. All he had to do was stop and nothing would have changed. Everything would be as it should be.

A quick scan of the kitchen and common room told him everything was fine.

He need not have worried.

A little smile graced his tired face as he approached the little hallway to the sleeping quarters. From where he stood, Qui-Gon could see into his room, into the refresher and into Obi-Wan's room. From where he stood, he could see Anakin's belongings strewn over Obi-Wan's usually neat desk. A gentle laugh escaped him as he realized just how different his padawan and Anakin were.

For a moment he just stood there staring at the desk that had become a makeshift workbench. It seemed every time he had turned around, Anakin was fiddling with some mechanical object or another.

Without really thinking, Qui-Gon stepped toward the smaller room.

His breath hitched.

Just how wrong it was hit him like a splash of cold water.

The shelves were empty.

Obi-Wan's few belongings from the desk were not just obscured, they were missing.

Dread clutched at his heart as realization washed over him. The Jedi master silently entered the small room. His hand tightly gripped the doorframe for stability.

Lying in the center of the bare sleep couch was a smooth river stone.

"No," the master wept understanding the image laid before him. He sank to the edge of the sleep couch and scooped up the smooth stone.

All the hurt that had consumed him for days following Obi-Wan's betrayal before the council welled up and exploded. But instead of the anger that he thought he was holding back out came currents of pain and grief.

Was this how it was supposed to be?

The great master wept.

He had looked upon Obi-Wan as a son. All of his hopes and dreams, his teachings instilled in a youth that would one day be a great Jedi knight. That was all he had hoped for, Obi-Wan to be the bright, shining legacy of an often foolish old man.

Tears fell and stained the layers of his tunic. Gruffly he straightened and tried to clear his blurry eyes.

You were a fool, Jinn, he told himself trying to salve the suddenly gaping wound in his heart. You should never have trusted the boy. He had already betrayed you once. Should have known he would do it again.

The words felt weak and manufactured.

Breathing deeply and searching for his center, Qui-Gon tightly clutched the river stone that had once meant something to Obi-Wan. At least, the venerable master had thought.

In an uncharacteristic fit of rage, he pitched the stone across the room. A loud bang as it crashed and exploded against the wall.

Overwhelming grief wracked him as he fell to his knees and scrambled to collect the shattered stone from the floor. "No. No. I'm sorry," he sobbed clutching the pieces to his chest. Uncontrolled weeping seized him as he fell against the wall.

Qui-Gon didn't know how long he had wept but his eyes were sore and his chest ached. Looking up through tear blurred vision he found Anakin standing silently in the doorway watching him.

Embarrassed, Qui-Gon wiped his eyes clear and straightened.

"Is everything okay Mister Qui-Gon, sir?"

"Yes," came a far too unhappy voice. He tried to smile warmly at the boy. "Everything's fine." Crushing the remains of his tears he slowly drew himself to his feet.

Anakin rushed forward and offered the tall master a helping hand. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," he said gently as he sat back down on the sleep couch. Reaching over to the desk, he pulled out a small wastebasket and shifted the shattered contents in his hand into the empty container.

Quickly the boy eyed the room. "All of Obi-Wan's stuff is gone."

Vaguely Qui-Gon noted the hint of relief in Anakin's voice. "Yes." He was quiet for a moment then another sad smile graced his weary face. "He didn't even tell me he was leaving."


	13. Book of Mush

__

The Book of Mush

The continuous ring of the door chime had played for nearly a minute.

"Go away," Obi-Wan growled through the door.

"I'll use a medical override if you don't open it!" Bant yelled as she pounded on the dull surface.

The door swished open and Obi-Wan stood there blocking the doorway. 

The coarse look he offered her did nothing to dissuade the healer as she reached up and ruffled through Obi-Wan's thick ginger hair. "Did I wake you?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." Bant roughly shoved her way into the room not really caring whether or not Obi-Wan willingly moved. Over her shoulder was a heavy canvas bag that she not so politely bumped into the knight with. "Well, shut the door and stop staring at me." She turned and the light from the hall reflected in her silver eyes giving them a laughing quality. "I brought some stuff."

"I see that," Obi-Wan answered dryly palming the door closed behind him. 

"Oh good, then your eye sight is fine, it's just your hearing that's going. You really should have that checked. I thought I was going to ruin the buzzer leaning on it for as long as I was."

"No one asked–"

Bant laughed. "You're funny. As if I ever cared what you wanted. Now sit down." She glanced back at him for a moment. "Sit," she repeated sternly. Then she set the bag down on the floor by the couch and reached out, grabbing Obi-Wan by the arm and pulling him to the nearest cushion. "The easy way or the hard way? Sit."

After a moment of hesitation Obi-Wan sank to the couch.

"How is your arm?"

"Better."

For a moment Bant just stared at him. "Did he hurt you?"

There was a long silence as Obi-Wan gazed blankly at the wall. A loud sigh before he turned his attention back to his friend. "Depends on how you define hurt."

Bant frowned as she sank to the couch next to her friend. Her voice was soft. "The entire temple is buzzing with word of your fight. Has the Council summoned you about it?"

"Haven't been answering."

A slight growl as Bant twisted in her seat and said with mock blandness, "Oh, good, it's not just me you're ignoring." Setting the bag in her lap, the first thing she pulled out was a small med kit. "Just in case." She rifled through the bag a little more and pulled out two silver boxes. The smell of warm food permeated the room. "I know you don't go down to the cafeteria and I know this cell doesn't keep a kitchen so unless you're living on ration packs you're not eating." 

Obi-Wan just stared straight ahead at the wall. 

"That's what I thought." She opened one of the boxes revealing a bowl of soup. "I figured this Tumarian soup will be a good start. She pushed the bowl over to him and then held up a spoon. "This is an eating utensil, you dip it into the bowl and collect the soup in the reservoir. Be careful. It might be hot." She waited as Obi-Wan studied the bits of meat floating in the clear blue liquid. "We'll be sitting here all night unless you start."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Okay, you tell me those weren't your ribs I saw the other day and I won't make you to eat."

Obi-Wan gave her a long look and a frown before he pushed the spoon through the thick liquid. After studying it he took a small sip.

And made a terrible face. 

Bant just smiled.

"I thought you said this was Tumarian soup?" He sputtered almost upset at the trick Bant had played. "It's supposed to be sweet," he complained roughly shoving the bowl back at Bant.

"It is," she said taking the bowl away. 

"You eat enough of those nasty ration bars and even candied bosi fruit will taste wretched." She frowned at having her theory suddenly proven. From the second box she pulled out another bowl with a bland white paste in it. "This is what we feed those recovering from severe stomach flu, it's as neutral as it gets."

The knight made another face as he studied the contents of the bowl. "I'm familiar with it."

"Good. It won't assault your tastes too much. Eat. It's good for you." 

The spoon stood up in the paste.

Obi-Wan eyed her but Bant's determined expression told him he wasn't going to get out of it. 

"Take it slow," she said catching his wrist. After she was sure a few small bites had gone down, Bant stood and walked a circle around the tiny apartment. "You need a bigger apartment with a window."

"I like it here."

Bant sighed as she returned to the bag. "I'll believe that when Yoda resigns from the Council and joins the Anterian Circus." Without anymore argument she pulled a roll of colorful material out. Hesitating only long enough to see that Obi-Wan was still eating she turned back to the bag and pulled out a holocube and a small, yet heavy object. 

Returning her attention to the roll of material she unrolled a small tapestry of woven colors with no discernable pattern. "This ought to liven the place up." She caught Obi-Wan's uncertain look. "You wouldn't go to the bazaar with me so I had to guess. Don't look at me like that. Eat," she insisted. 

Finding a nice big empty space on the wall, which wasn't hard, Bant hung the tapestry. She adjusted it slightly, then pushed it until it hung at a sharp angle. "Much better." She glanced back at Obi-Wan who quickly set his attention to playing with his food. "I'm not leaving until it's all gone."

Obi-Wan frowned. 

With a little laugh, Bant reached over and ran her fingers through his loosely tied ginger hair. "I liked the spikes better." She tugged on the braid lightly. "At least I can still get your attention."

Ignoring Obi-Wan's grimace, she reached down and picked up the heavy object. "Maybe you'll start feeling more alive if this place looks like someone actually lived here." She unwrapped a perfectly round, shimmering blue stone with golden veins. Holding the sphere in one hand, Bant set the carved pedestal in the center of the small corner table. Then she propped the stone on top. "It takes up quite a bit of space on the table but since you obviously don't eat it isn't a big deal." Without looking back she said, "It won't disappear any faster just because you keep stirring it."

"I can't–"

"Yes you can. Because if you can't I'll file formal request to force you into the healing center for a check up. If you can't stomach that nutritious goop then there is something seriously wrong with you."

Grudgingly Obi-Wan took another bite.

"Better. Keep going." The holocube found its way into her grip. She flopped down on the couch next to him. "Thought you might like some of these." Slowly she turned the cube and an image appeared.

The face of a teenage Obi-Wan's, looked so different from the one that studied the image. 

Not allowing Obi-Wan to dwell too long on the image, Bant turned it allowing another picture to appear. It was a recent image of her, Garen and Reeft. 

Obi-Wan's absence from the image was glaring. 

"You still have friends," she said softly, "even when you insist on ignoring us." She leaned a little closer. "Tell me this life makes you happy and I'll go away. I'll tell Reeft and Garen that you're fine and they shouldn't ask about you anymore. Tell me you're happy and I'll leave you alone."

Obi-Wan frowned staring down at his neatly polished boots. 

After a long silence Bant started to get up.

Obi-Wan grabbed her wrist. "Don't go." He pulled on her wrist until she sank back to the couch and stared at him. "You don't understand," he shook his head sadly. "I need a mission. An assignment. Just not staying here."

"They're not going to let you go anywhere," she said softly.

"I have to have a purpose. I don't have a purpose anymore. I need a mission."

Bant remained silent as she studied the desperate eyes of her friend. She gave a little laugh trying to break up the oppressive silence. "Is that all? Then we'll find you a safe mission."

"It's not the same."

She frowned at the insinuation. She tried to laugh again, but it just wasn't in her.

"Oh, I think I can come up with something as death defying as anything the Council has sent you on. Now the question is," she hesitated as she reached behind Obi-Wan and tugged lightly on the thick braid, "are you willing to accept it?"

"What sort of mission?" He looked over at her hopefully.

"Eat your mush and meet me at the meditating gardens in six hours."


	14. Books of Different Paths, Temple Ghosts ...

__

The Book of Different Paths

Yoda must be going senile, Qui-Gon thought, after almost nine hundred years who wouldn't?

He shook his head knowing it was a poor excuse.

But it was the only one he had.

Besides, that troll knew just how far Obi-Wan had gone to cause trouble. 

Yoda had sat there silently the day his former apprentice so callously sided with Council. Telling the master's that he didn't think Anakin should be trained.

The mere thought of the incident made the Jedi master tense.

Maybe he wouldn't have been so angry if Obi-Wan hadn't been so duplicitous about it.

He thought he had an ally in his struggle against the Council.

He was wrong.

It seemed the harder he had tried to explain to his former apprentice the importance of Anakin's training the further they grew apart.

Not that it really mattered. 

Within a few days Obi-Wan had been knighted and was gone without so much as a word.

Qui-Gon had been so stunned by that it almost didn't affect him when he learned Obi-Wan had insisted on excluding him from the ceremony.

That was the past.

It could not be changed therefore he should waste no more energy dwelling on it.

Anakin is the present and that is all that should concern him now.

Anakin wouldn't disappoint him.

Anakin would have faith in him no matter what. He would stand faithfully by his old master's side.

Anakin would not betray his teachings as Obi-Wan had.

That was why the boy was different. Special. The Chosen One would bring balance to the Force. Guided by his deep understanding of the living Force. 

Qui-Gon smiled at the notion. It would be a legacy greater than the first excellent Jedi he trained. It would bury the betrayals of his second and third padawans. His fourth and final padawan learner would be the greatest Jedi to ever live.

Pride, he recognized, but for a moment he didn't care if it was an unbecoming trait of a Jedi. 

Qui-Gon Jinn, master of the Chosen One, was a mantel he had come to enjoy.

The tall master snapped out of his thoughts as he rounded a corner along the corridor. Passively he scanned the large intersection of hallways ahead. 

The Jedi master glanced around at the few Jedi in the hall with him.

He was constantly aware of the silent figure that followed him. He didn't glance back at his shadow. The silent Jedi was one of several that had followed him at a distance since his little confrontation with his former padawan.

Although Qui-Gon was annoyed with their presence he had accepted them. He knew this was only a step toward more severe punishment. It was just the waiting that was making him crazy.

And maybe that was part of the punishment.

So caught up in his reveries he nearly missed it. 

The Force had been unable to warn him what his eyes now so clearly saw as he came to a sudden halt.

*****

"Bali Tiro."

The little boy's heart seized at the sound of his name so plainly spoken. He froze in his tracks. Little hands tightened around the strap of his cream colored bag.

Slowly the little boy turned around. His eyes scanning the passersby.

The intersecting halls were busy with Jedi bustling about.

Bright green eyes stopped on the only other motionless figure in the hall. The little boy stiffened as he recognized the Jedi who had saved him from Daen Lebo's beating just days earlier.

Immediately Bali folded his arms protectively over his chest and backed to the wall.

The constant flow of traffic seemed to break around the silent figure in the intersection. Whether consciously or not, the busy Jedi made a wide circle around the still form.

Bali retreated tighter against the wall so not to be trampled.

Still, the little boy didn't take his eyes from the figure standing in the middle of the hall.

__

Can't sense him.

Bali's breath caught as the silent Jedi took a step closer and knelt as if the constant motion of the other Jedi didn't bother him. 

"How are you doing?"

"Okay," Bali whispered.

"That's good. I was concerned. You took a pretty good beating the other day."

"Healer Dirad fixed it," the boy said warily as he scooted along the wall.

The little boy cast out on the Force but withdrew the moment he struck a blank wall.

__

Can't sense him.

A shiver chased through Bali's small form. "You burned your arm."

"What?" Surprised briefly glossed over the silent figure's stoic features.

Suddenly the little boy's bright green eyes widened in a mixture of fear and confusion. "Sir?" 

The Jedi knight jerked violently backwards. Stumbling and falling against the cold tile floor. Quick, panicked breaths as he stared down one of the corridors.

Bali squeaked as he felt as if he were thrown backwards into his mind.

__

Sand.

The initiate quickly brushed his hands over his arms as if trying to brush off the warm, grainy feeling. A brief glance at the crumpled knight and then Bali bolted down the hall.

*****

Qui-Gon just stood there trying to figure out what he had just witnessed. Studying the fallen knight, he almost didn't see the little boy tearing toward him.

A frightened squeal escaped the little boy just before he slammed into the tall Jedi Master.

"I'm sorry!" Bali half cried as Qui-Gon caught the boy.

"That's all right." He was aware of the fear radiating from the small boy. Somehow he couldn't blame the initiate's reaction. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Bali repeated as he pulled free of Qui-Gon's grip and fled down the hall.

The graying Jedi master watched the little boy until he disappeared. A smirk escaped him as he thought the initiate had shown a great deal of bravery when faced with the silent figure.

Slowly Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the knight who had managed to pick himself up off the floor. The older Jedi studied the slightly tussled ginger hair as the knight straightened his cloak.

The moment the knight turned, Qui-Gon was faced with the dead blue eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

For a brief moment, Qui-Gon thought he sensed a flicker of fear from the young man.

The knight wrapped himself in the folds of his cloak. He hesitated a moment then turned silently and stalked off.

Qui-Gon sensed the tenseness in his shadow and turned slightly. "Do not worry, my friend. I do not intend on starting any fights at the moment."

He was too curious about what had happened between Obi-Wan and the little initiate do much else.

_________________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part IV

Sands shifted across the barren landscape.

From the harsh winds the sky and the ground blended into the same drab color.

The dry, dusty air choked his lungs.

The heat of the twin suns bore down on him cutting through the layers of his cloak and tunic.

A blast of hot sandy air ripped wildly through the folds of Obi-Wan's cloak as he struggled to still the errant material. He had been to many planets in his lifetime but Tatooine had to be worst. Sure there had been plenty of other unpleasant places but there was just something about the desert planet that didn't set well with him.

Tiredly he reached down and dragged his fingers over the little mound of sand next to the landing platform where he sat. The tiny crystals were hot even in the shade.

Staring in the direction of Mos Espa, Obi-Wan wandered how his master's plans were proceeding.

As usual, Qui-Gon had neglected to give him too much detail on what he was doing for fear that it would make the apprentice worry.

Qui-Gon thought the young man worried too much.

But sitting there, staring across an endless landscape of dunes and dust the thought held little sway. All Obi-Wan wanted was to leave the planet. He had wanted to the moment they landed.

Something terrible was unsettling him and he didn't know what it was.

Still, he managed to keep his feelings well buried.

There were too many things happening at once for him to add to it with unfounded concerns. 

Closing his eyes slowly, Obi-Wan let his mind slide into a deep state of meditation. The sound of the blowing wind faded and disappeared. The heat no longer bothered him.

Deeper into the meditative trance he slipped until everything blended into a continuous state of calm.

A strange familiarity brushed through his thoughts.

No, not strange. It was a sense that this was the way it was supposed to be. He was where he belonged at that moment in time.

There was comfort and satisfaction in the thought especially at this moment when so much uncertainty and darkness crept over that landscape of his mission to Naboo.

The sand was constant.

As if it had always been.

As if it would always be a part of him.

Laughing inwardly to himself, Obi-Wan was reminded of his master's mantra. 

Keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.

__

An uncertain future was the last thing he needed clogging his mind with at the moment.

______________

__

The Book of Confessions

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up," Bant said softly from beneath the Yawen tree.

"I was detained," Obi-Wan answered distractedly as he sank to the thick carpet of grass next to his friend.

"By?"

Obi-Wan shook his head as he drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his folded arms. He was still shaking from the intrusion and he suspected it would be hours before it started to go away. 

Silently he withdrew into his mind and started to build new layers of shielding on top of the already dense mental barriers. 

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Bant said softly.

Slowly Obi-Wan glanced up with glassy blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Your shields," the Mon Calamarian healer said dully. "I don't like not being able to sense your Force signature. It's just not right. Like you're just an image and not a real person."

Barely hearing a word his friend had spoken, Obi-Wan continued to tighten his mental barriers against any more intrusions.

Bant just frowned. "Be stubborn," she said softly as she glanced over at the silent figure. A salmon colored hand reached out and lightly brushed Obi-Wan's cloak covered arm.

The knight flinched away.

"Okay, that's not supposed to happened," Bant replied as she tugged on the brown material. "I thought you said the cut was healing fine."

"It is," Obi-Wan mumbled from where his face was buried.

Silently Bant reached out with the Force to study the concealed wound. "You're right, but that lightsaber burn isn't." Another frown crossed her salmon features. "I should have known when you evaded my questions."

"I'm not in the mood to discuss it," Obi-Wan said gruffly, moving further from the healer's reach.

For a long time Bant just silently studied him. Then she blandly turned her attention to the quiet gardens she watched the water cascade over a distant waterfall. Her attention silently drifted to the multicolored tuka flowers that crept silently up a tree trunk. 

"Is it me or are you shaking?"

"I don't want to discuss it," Obi-Wan growled.

"I guess I shouldn't be complaining too much. After all, you're here. I didn't think I'd get you this far."

Looking up again, Obi-Wan's tired eyes met Bant's. He gave her a weak smile. "I've been here to meditate several times. I'm not hiding in my room. Although it seems to be the only place I can get any peace around here."

"And you thought temple life was supposed to be quiet and dull."

Obi-Wan shot her a sharp look. Then he silently retreated into the folds of his cloak. "About this mission?"

Bant frowned. "I didn't think getting here would be the hard part. I just wanted to start reintroducing you to temple life. Drag you all the places I know you're refusing to go."

"I don't want–"

Laughter wafted through that section of the garden. "I don't care what you want. I want you to get a life. I am determined to drag you to every single event in the temple. Your mission is to let me drag you around."

"I don't–"

"Hush," Bant said sternly. "Madame Jocasta Nu is holding a lecture tomorrow evening."

"On?"

"The quality of laughter in reflection."

Quirking an eyebrow, Obi-Wan silently studied Bant. "Try translating that into something I understand."

"Try despite its name, it's going to be long and boring. We'll be in a cramped room with easily two hundred other stoic Jedi. All you have to do is manage to stay awake for six hours."

"You're joking, right?"

"No."

"I think I would rather hide in my apartment."

"Not going to happen."

Obi-Wan tensed as he turned and glanced deeper into the garden. A flurry of brown as large, blue skinned Jedi barreled through the quiet gardens. Orange eyes scanned the organic shapes. A rather disgruntled look danced across the Jedi's face as his complete attention zeroed in on Obi-Wan.

Without a word, the large Jedi silently withdrew into the garden shadows and waited in silent vigil.

"Friend of yours?" Bant asked softly as she returned her attention to her friend.

"My babysitter," Obi-Wan said dully. "I thought I had lost him." The knight sighed loudly and buried his face in the folds of his cloak again.

"Oh." Gently she reached across the space between them and lightly rubbed Obi-Wan's back. "Something happened on the way here."

"I don't–"

"I know. Maybe it would help if you did." She was quiet for a moment. "You're so shielded." She gripped his wrist. "If I couldn't touch you I would think you're a holo image."

Obi-Wan frowned as he looked back up at his friend. He just shook his head sadly. "This kid. This stupid little initiate," he closed his eyes as his voice dropped to a whisper. "He punched through my shields like they were nothing."

"How?" Bant drew back slightly, attempting to hide the shock. "I can't do that and I bet there are few who could."

"I don't know," Obi-Wan whispered, an air of agitation dancing in his voice. "Just a little kid. He read me like nothing."


	15. Books of Tense Words, Concerns

__

The Book of Tense Words

Mace Windu stood quietly in a secluded lounge gazing out the large curving windows at the sun drenched cityscape.

Golden light washed over the skyscrapers that defined the city planet as if trying to burn away the remnants of the day's corruption.

Turning slightly, the senior Council member studied the empty doorway. "You're late," he said boldly a mere moments before Qui-Gon Jinn stormed into the small, circular room.

"Don't start," Qui-Gon growled as he glanced back at his shadow. "Could you call your hound off?"

Mace leaned slightly toward the doorway. "It's all right. Wait outside."

The effort brought a sharp look from Qui-Gon. 

"You brought this on yourself, old friend." Mace watched at the Jedi master sank into the nearest cushioned chair. Slowly the dark skinned master folded his arms into his sleeves as his attention returned to the city. "What were you thinking? I mean honestly, you of all people should know not to go picking a fight. In the temple." His voice raising a notch, "After I warned you."

"It was a minor skirmish."

"A what?" Mace drew his eyes into a thin line. "Do not undermine me," he warned. "I've seen the repair reports. Minor skirmishes do not leave deep saber gashes in the walls and floors. It's going to take maintenance several days to repair all the damage." He hesitated to study the silent figure in one of the large amber colored chairs. "Apparently someone drove their weapon straight down through the floor. Cut through some cable lines. Blacked out half the temple's interior communications." 

Qui-Gon stared at the unique circular floor pattern.

"No of course not. You wouldn't know anything about that." After a moment of silence, Mace continued with an air of sarcasm in his voice. "And certainly there was no one on the floor who saw the [i]_skirmish[/i]_."

Qui-Gon turned away and stared blankly out one of the windows. "I didn't realize anyone had–"

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing."

Mace growled and swept his dark cloak around as he walked to a facing chair and sat down. Leaning back, he threw his arm across the low back. Feeling sufficiently settled he continued. "The Council is considering drastic measures."

"I suspect they should."

"Against you."

Qui-Gon stiffened. "I admit to throwing the first punch, but I didn't draw my weapon except in defense.

"And it never occurred to you that he would react to such an attack."

"Not as swiftly, or as deadly." Qui-Gon met his friend's gaze. "Why hasn't the council summoned me?"

"Our situation is curious. Knight Kenobi will not be removed from the temple as per Yoda's orders."

"Yoda," Qui-Gon breathed.

"You should be thankful to that meddling troll. He's the only thing keeping you from being cast out at the moment."

Again Qui-Gon stiffened.

"Did you think we were going to sit by quietly after you attacked a fellow Jedi?

"He–"

"I don't want to hear it!" Mace leapt to his feet and pointed a damning finger at the other man. "You are a respected, knowledgeable Jedi Master, not some uncontrolled padawan. Frankly I would have expected the attack to be instigated by Knight Kenobi, not you."

Qui-Gon remained silently seated but the fire in his eyes did not diminish.

Cooling slightly, Mace sank back to his seat. "A diplomatic mission to Tarsis is currently being prepared. You and your apprentice will be sent. Until a better plan can be devised."

A relieved smile danced across Qui-Gon's leonine features.

"Do not get too excited. This mission may not happen."

For a long time the two men just stared at each other.

Beyond the lounge's windows, the sun had passed below the jagged horizon and the city's lights illuminated the landscape below.

"Four years ago," Mace began, "I wouldn't have imagined us sitting here having a conversation like this."

"Neither would I, considering that Nubian incident."

"Has it been that long," Mace asked in mock surprise, "that we can down grade the Trade Federation's illegal blockade of Naboo to an incident?"

"You're baiting me, old friend," Qui-Gon said with a hint of warning in his voice. 

"I see your senses haven't dulled a bit."

"Have too to keep up with Anakin."

"And how is he adjusting to his master's acting out?"

"Mace."

"I'm just asking." Mace's dark eyes studied his old friend for a moment. He leaned forward in his seat, his voice low, as if guarding it from prying ears. "We've known each other for a very long time, right?"

"Of course. Way back when you were nothing but a skinny little kid that didn't know when to keep his mouth shut."

"Some things never change." Mace smiled. "My point is, in all those years I've known you, I've never seen you act like this. I would ask you what's the deal but I'm not sure you would or could answer it to my satisfaction. On the other hand, I sense the first chance you get, you'll have packed Anakin up and taken off for Malastare or someplace else until Obi-Wan returned to the field." He studied the fierce look that clouded Qui-Gon's features. "Obi-Wan for the time is confined to temple. So I suggest you get over this, whatever it is. The council is not going to play musical Jedi at your whim. I don't care if you got your feelings hurt a hour ago or four years ago, this ends now."

"You've never been wounded like this though."

Mace was contemplative, but offered neither question nor rebuttal to the remark.

"How many padawans have you trained, Mace? Three? You were the proud master three times at the knighting ceremony. I know, I was witness to Depa's knighting. Now she sits on the council."

"Qui."

The venerable master leaned back in his seat. "Now, _[i]old friend[/i]_," he said to Mace, "this is what you were wanting. Me to spill my soul." He lightly massaged his bruised forehead slightly. "I have been poked and prodded--lambasted and accused--since I stepped foot off that transport. I have been the center of some game you and Yoda are playing." There was a pause. "Yoda in his somewhat skewed wisdom hasn't learned that I will not play any more games. I will not sit by like before when he foisted a pathetic initiate that no one wanted on me."

"I think you've gone to far in that assessment."

"Have I?" Qui-Gon silently studied the Council member's staid expression. "Tell me, when was the last time you sent Knight Kenobi into a negotiation? That's what I trained him to be. A negotiator. When was the last time he peacefully went into a mission and left peacefully? He's little more than a mercenary."

"Jedi serve many purposes. Sometimes the situations are desperate and they call for more than negotiation."

Qui-Gon drew his fingers over the edge of his cloak as if not listening to a word that was spoken. "I should have known after the Melida/Daan incident that I was wasting my time."

"You're out of line," Mace replied with a hint of annoyance to his usually cool voice.

"That's what you want to hear. I'm telling you so I don't have to explain it anymore. Repeat it to Yoda. This is the last time I want to broach the subject." Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "I met him in the corridor one day. I kept staring at him trying to figure out what had changed. You don't know what it's like to realize your padawan wasn't a padawan anymore." 

"Hmm," Mace said dully. Then calmly, "Nor can I imagine my master dismissing me before the Council in favor of an untested child he had just met. You did thattwice. It was disconcerting the first time, but after everything that had happened the second time made us question your state of mind. A part of me still wonders if a part of you died on Naboo."

_______________

__

The Book of Concerns

Paying little attention to the wide path in the busy temple hallway he was cutting, Obi-Wan picked up his pace ever so slightly. He wasn't going anywhere in particular, he just needed to get out and move.

With every passing hour, his apartment was shrinking. Certainly that was just in his mind, but he didn't like the sensation never the less. 

A quick scan of his vicinity revealed he had lost his shadow a ways back. 

Good.

Each new one they assigned to trail him was better than the last and it was getting difficult to evade their watchful eyes.

Unconsciously he pulled his cloak closed for warmth. For some strange reason he felt colder than usual. The protective layer of brown did little to keep the chill away.

Obi-Wan's thoughts drifted even as he maintained the quick clip to nowhere in particular. 

Now not only was he concerned in shielding himself from Qui-Gon but that meddling troll had done something to him.

That was the only explanation.

The thought panicked him of having his shields so easily invaded.

Whatever possessed him to try to speak to the fearful boy a second time?

Both times he had felt it. The distant tingle. The first touch of a bond.

The connection was so natural.

He quickly brushed off the thoughts.

Frustration rippled through him as he realized all of his carefully erected shields were not strong enough to stop the brush of a child's mind.

Obi-Wan shook his head. 

He would just have to avoid the boy until he could convince the Council to deem it fit to send him away on another mission.

That's all there was too it.

Still, he had to wonder why the boy was so fearful.

He had never seen anyone stand up so valiantly to a beating or be so determined in battle even if it was just a sparring match only to fall apart so easily when it came to a little personal contact. 

The knight came to a sudden stop.

He just stared into the open doorway into the main floor of the initiate sparring room.

Children bustled about as they moved from one practice station to the next.

Silently Obi-Wan started to retreat. 

Off to the edge of the room was the familiar little initiate, Bali Tiro. He struggled against another boy about his size.

A mask of concentration on the small boy's face as he struggled to block the blows of the other's training saber. Within a few moments Bali was disarmed and on the floor. Immediately the small boy jumped up and grabbed his training weapon and readied himself for another bout.

With each strike against Bali, the saber twisted his wrists and his defensive posture dropped.

Within a few steps the boy had lost again.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Obi-Wan silently moved into the room. Small eyes followed him as he approached the mat corner where Bali was picking himself up again.

Green eyes widened but the little boy didn't run.

"You're holding your saber wrong," Obi-Wan said softly.  
Bali stared down at his two handed grip. Then looked worriedly up at the knight.

Obi-Wan glanced about, sensing the wave of apprehension in the room.

__

What had he done?

For a moment, he locked eyes with the initiate supervisor, Master Na'tho. The kindly older man nodded gently with a smile.

Obi-Wan's heart was racing as he slowly slipped to his knees. "May I?"

Bali's wide green eyes studied the knight silently. Then slowly the little boy stepped forward holding the hilt out toward Obi-Wan.


	16. Books of Anger, Temple Ghosts 5, Revenge

__

The Book of Anger

Qui-Gon stormed from the lounge. Immediately his shadow picked up and followed. 

Anakin shrank back into his hiding place. He breathed slowly to maintain his concentration on his concealment. When he was certain his graying master was long gone Anakin stepped out and stared down at the hall.

The meeting with Master Mace had been short. Qui-Gon left rather agitated. 

That was never a good sign.

It wasn't fair how everyone was treating his master, the boy thought. 

His master was a good man and hadn't done a thing to deserve all of these people blaming him for Obi-Wan's bad attitude. 

Of course, Qui-Gon had never said it in so many words. He said that his meetings with Mace and Yoda were _conversations._ Nothing for him to be concerned with. But Anakin knew it was just a euphemism. His master seemed to use words like that a lot when it came to the other two masters.

At first Anakin had assumed he was the subject of the tense discussions. He thought it was about the bird. 

At least that was before he woke during the short night sensing his master blocking their bond. He would have slept clear through it if he hadn't heard the muffled sobs from beyond his master's closed door. 

Qui-Gon had only once wept in his memories.

A smile and the accessible training bond had returned in the morning as if nothing had happened but Anakin knew. 

His master was wounded and sad. This time, returning to the temple was not a good thing. 

Qui-Gon shouldn't have to feel bad. It made Anakin frustrated to know he cared so much for his master's happiness. It made him angry that he so felt helpless to help the man who had done so much for him. 

He stopped at the initiate practice room.

From the doorway he could see the soft spoken initiate supervisor, Na'tho, watch the children's practice. He had heard of the master from other padawans. They seemed to really like him.

Anakin thought was glad he never had to go through the initiate training and live in a dormitory. Besides, he knew if he had to face trials and choosings by Jedi searching for padawans he would have been cast out a long time ago.

No master would want him.

Maybe that's what made Qui-Gon so special. He championed a little slave boy who should never have been given the chance. Qui-Gon was always there to be that voice of encouragement and help when he messed up.

__

Because he could do no wrong. 

Those words bit Anakin to the core and only stoked the fire of a carefully concealed fury. 

Scanning the room full of initiates he caught sight of Obi-Wan quietly kneeling at the corner of a practice mat.

What was it one of Queen Amidala's handmaidens had repeated? Anakin thought for a moment then frowned.

__

Pathetic life form.

It could be worse.

Obi-Wan had been against him from the beginning. 

__

He's dangerous, they all sense it, why can't you?

For the last four years all Anakin has wanted was to prove everyone wrong, especially Qui-Gon's precious former apprentice. 

Anakin's gaze fell to the floor searching for the singular object of the hated knight's attention.

A small boy rolled and twisted staying just out of reach of another's training saber. Anakin smirked. After only a few months in the temple he was better at saberplay that initiate who had his whole life to train in the temple.

The initiate tumbled receiving the touch of the blade to the throat, ending the match. 

Obi-Wan motioned the boy close and adjusted his defensive stance with a soft verbal correction.

Leave it to Obi-Wan to pick the most worthless creature of the bunch, Anakin scoffed as he marched off.

A smile drifted off the thirteen year old's features.

He would hurt Obi-Wan just as the knight had hurt Qui-Gon.

__________________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part V

"They have already made their decision, Master," Obi-Wan implored of the older Jedi standing before him.

"As have I."

"The Council will make your life miserable if you insist on going against them this time."

Qui-Gon smiled gently as he laid a heavy hand against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Be that as if may, Anakin is the chosen one. I will train him."

"He is dangerous."

"That you do not know."

"Master," Obi-Wan started to argue but stopped when he saw the determined look on his master's face. It was futile to go on, he knew, Qui-Gon's mind was set.

"My padawan," the older Jedi said as he stepped around to face the argumentative apprentice. "Soon you will be gone"

"But, Master, respectfully—"

"I promised Anakin's mother I would watch after him. Allowing him to be shuffled off the to AgriCorps does no one any good. He might as well remained a slave and stayed with his mother."

"Master."

"No, Obi-Wan. I am not going to argue with you." The master sighed softly. "You know this is right."

_______________

__

The Book of Revenge

"And thenand then," Bali Tiro sputtered excitedly as he showed another initiate a defensive move. The little boy danced around the initiate locker room. "Then he showed me this!" Bali flung his arm out as he twisted and pretended to block an invisible enemy.

The other boy laughed as Bali calmed down slightly and gathered up his belongings in his carry bag. 

"Want to go to the pool?" 

Bali smiled as he stilled. "I've got to run back to my room first."

"Okay," the other boy waved at Bali as he started to walk away. "We'll see you there."

Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Bali marched through the hall toward the initiate dorms. His mind was still reeling from the practice session and the help from the knight.

He had actually won his first bout.

The little boy came to a sudden stop. Slowly he turned and stared down the hall. Nothing seemed amiss.

Still he hesitated. Something didn't feel right. He quickly started to walk, almost run, down the hall. The hairs prickled the back of his neck as his breaths came in quick short gasps.

Racing around a corner, Bali slammed into a still figure. "I'm sorry!" the little boy shrieked as he fell to the floor.

"Why are you sorry?" Anakin Skywalker slowly asked as he took a few steps closer to the fallen initiate. His gaze slowly raked the small form as Bali struggled to stand up.

"I didn't mean to be in your way," Bali said nervously as he grabbed for his bag. "Excuse me."

Anakin moved to block the boy's escape.

Bali stopped and stared wide eyed at the larger boy. He moved to back away. Then quickly bolted.

Before the small boy screamed as something grabbed his arm and whipped him backward. His feet flew out from under him and he roughly slammed to the ground. 

Anakin kept a tight grip around Bali's arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"My friends are waiting for me," Bali stuttered. 

"I want to talk to you," Anakin said coolly. 

Bali shrank back, but didn't try to escape the vice-like grip around his arm. Tears sprang to his eyes from the pain.

"I know you've been talking to Obi-Wan."

"Who?" Bali twisted.

Anakin silently studied the boy. Carefully violating the little initiate's shields until he was satisfied the look of confusion was genuine.

"The Jedi who saved you from Daen Lebo. Everyone knows about it."

"Okay," came a small shaking voice even as Bali tried to pull his arm free of the tight grip.

"Let me warn you, he's evil."

Bali tried to twist free.

"He's really mean."

"He seemed nice," Bali trembled. "He showed me how to defend—"

"It's all an evil trick," Anakin whispered into the little boy's ear. "He'll treat you terribly."

Bali pulled harder, but Anakin only twisted Bali's arm back subduing the fight in the boy.

"Everyone is scared of him. He even scares other grown ups."

"Leave me alone," Bali said defiantly. The knight had been really nice when he helped him with his saber stances.

"I'm just trying to help you," Anakin said plainly.

"I don't want your help," Bali started to whimper.

"Did you know he killed a Sith?"

Tears glistened against the child's cheeks as he stared up at Anakin. Panic flooded his small features.

"They say the Sith cursed him." Anakin grinned at the terror filling Bali's tear rimmed eyes. "Killing a Sith changed him. Turned him into a ghost."

"Ghost?" Bali whispered. "Can't sense him."

Anakin just stared curiously at the dark haired initiate. "He'll turn you into one too."

Bali squeaked in horror as he broke free of the tight grip and bolted down the hall.

A pleased smile graced Anakin's youthful features.


	17. Books of Errors, Levity

__

The Book of Errors

The Jedi Council sat in stark silence as Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice silently marched to the center of the chamber.

Qui-Gon glanced around at all the masters and bowed with Anakin quickly mimicking the movement.

Without hesitation Mace spoke up, "Against our better judgement we have a mission for you and your padawan."

A strange sense of relief flowed over the venerable Jedi master. Qui-Gon straightened, stifling the smile that threatened. Drawing his arms into a tight fold across his chest, he asked with mock surprise, "What brings this on?"

Mace eyed him harshly. Then after a moment of silence the Council member went on. "You are familiar with the Tarsis situation, are you not?"

"Yes, I was part of the team that moderated the Tarsis agreements about eight years ago."

A disturbed silence hung in the air.

Yoda drew his ears back in contemplation, but said nothing.

"The peace treaty you negotiated has broken down," Ki-Ad-Mundi explained. "The government has requested you return to aid in the negotiation."

"Certainly," came a restrained tone from the graying master. "I take it we are to leave immediately."

"Yes," Mace said dryly. "It is a two day journey. That should be plenty of time to familiarize yourself with the situation."

Qui-Gon stiffly nodded.

Anakin smiled, happy that he and his master were returning to the calm of the field. He didn't like temple life and these last few days he had hated it worse than usual. He couldn't wait to get out from beneath the shadow of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Qui-Gon turned and gave his padawan a gentle smile.

Anakin could feel the relief through their bond.

All he ever wanted was to be Qui-Gon's sole concern. 

_____________________

****

Part II

__

The Book of Levity

Relief did not come with the knowledge of Qui-Gon and Anakin's departure. 

They had been gone almost two days but it still did not take the tenseness away from Obi-Wan. 

Silently he moved through the temple. Anxiously he tugged on the edge of his cloak. 

He was cold.

Always cold.

His pace quickened as he turned a corner. As usual Bant was waiting for him. Tonight's _mission_ was to meet her in the crèche for story time. He had tried to convince her that it was not a wise idea but Bant as usual didn't care.

She had a Gungan fairy tale for him to read to a group of four year olds. 

She was insane.

Rounding another corner Obi-Wan came to a sudden stop. In the middle of the hall, stood Yoda with his back to him and a small group of three year olds. Very quietly, Obi-Wan retraced his steps, backing around the corner.

"Ah, a sparring partner we have," Yoda said cheerfully to the four children he was instructing. "Present yourself," he ordered twisting to eye the silent figure who tried to slip away unnoticed.

The children giggled as Obi-Wan reluctantly stopped.

"Away running are you, Knight Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan turned to look at the small master and his young charges. "Master Yoda," he bowed formally. Eyeing the green creature warily.

"Visual aid the children need. Provide you will."

"Master–"

Like a child throwing a violent temper tantrum, Yoda rapped his gimer stick hard against the floor. "Assist you will."

Obi-Wan stiffened but did not contradict the ancient master.

Yoda held up a small, brightly colored gem. The children wiggled following the movements of the object as the master waved his hand about. He stared at the fidgeting children then eyed the knight briefly. "Catch!" he yelled, pitching the object through the air in the opposite direction of the knight.

Easily Obi-Wan reached out and using the Force, called the object back to his hand. Before he realized it the four children slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. Air exploded from his lungs as the small forms clamored for the object held tightly in his grip.

Yoda happily grinned as the children struggled to pry the knight's fingers apart.

"What lesson is this?" Obi-Wan asked while attempting not to show his irritation with the small master. He gently freed his arm from the hold of a small boy. While two others clung to his cloak.

"Lesson? Said there was a lesson did I?" Yoda smiled rather pleased with the suddenly disheveled look that Obi-Wan's normally staid appearance had taken on.

A small Vesian girl with short blue/black hair sat in Obi-Wan's lap as she admired the prize she had managed to slip free of his grip. "Pretty," the three year old cooed happily turning the brightly colored stone in her tiny pink hands. 

The knight sat there in the middle of the hallway with the children still clinging to him. He breathed a smile.

"Smile you can," Yoda said finally as he studied the other man. "Wondered if you could still."


	18. Books of the Deceived, Ghosts

__

The Book of the Deceived

"They didn't want our help," came Anakin's muffled voice. A whimper from the heavy folds of his cloak. He shivered slightly from the cold, dank floor he was sitting on.

"No, my padawan. They did not."

"Why did they lie?" Anakin almost cried as he shifted uncomfortably. 

"I don't know," Qui-Gon replied softly as he turned his attention from the heavy durasteel door to face his thirteen year old apprentice. A deep frown graced his leonine features when he noted the dark bruises that painted the boy's face.

A lie? It was not even that, Qui-Gon thought. They had barely stepped foot off the transport when canon fire destroyed it. The only welcoming party that greeted them were heavily armed soldiers.

His thoughts had been so strained these last weeks that he had not paid close enough attention to the warning in the Force.

All he had wanted to do was get as far away from Obi-Wan as possible.

It didn't matter what the consequences might have been.

Anakin shifted, groaning softly.

Qui-Gon's heart broke at the sight of his battered padawan. He walked the few short steps the prison cell allowed and knelt before the boy. Large warm hands studied the dark areas around Anakin's eyes. "You shouldn't have tried to fight them."

"There weren't that many," Anakin protested weakly but grew quiet as he gently pressed his hand to his chest. 

"Things are not always as they appear, my Padawan." The tall master shrugged his cloak off and wrapped it around the boy before he sank to the hard stone floor. "That is why you must learn to look beyond the obvious." 

"I will try, my master."

Qui-Gon tipped Anakin's head up and examined the tight white band that was secured around the youth's neck. It appeared to be as snug as the one that was choking him. Force dampening collars and worse, he was certain, like slaver collars. He could feel the proximity sensor built into his collar so even if he could get Anakin out of the cell they likely would not get away alive.

Of course, even if they got out he wasn't sure where they were.

Tarsis. Yes, but that was about all he knew.

There had been no break down of the peace treaty.

They peace treaty had been dissolved in a military coup.

"Feeding time," a coarse voice sounded from beyond the heavy door. A small panel at the floor opened and a tray with a few pieces of stale bread and a container of water was shoved roughly through. 

Qui-Gon raced to the door and yelled into the opening, "My padawan is injured. He needs medical attention."

Laughter echoed from the hall. "Why? You'll both be dead in a few days anyway."

"For what reason?" Qui-Gon demanded. "We were sent on a diplomatic mission–"

"Just like before, is that your excuse Jinn? You were the one that mediated the original accords that kept the Tarsian monarchy in power. Well guess what, Jedi, General Soloban now runs the government. He's deemed you a traitor to the state and you will die for your crimes."

"My padawan has nothing to do with this. He is a child and had nothing to do with the negotiations. Set him free and I will submit."

"You have no room to bargain," the voice sneered. "You are already our prisoner. The boy is a Jedi, that is crime enough. He attacked soldiers and injured them. That is a crime here. He will suffered the allotted punishment."

"What is that?"

"The same as yours. Death."

_______________

__

The Book of Ghosts

When the peace of the meditating gardens had beckoned, Obi-Wan had followed the call. Kneeling in a meditative posture under the ancient yawen tree, the knight focused on his slow, steady breaths.

Relaxation had not come easily and he struggled to find his calm center that seemed to evade him more every day. He took in long, deep breaths attempting to push back all the warring thoughts that battled for precedence in his mind.

With every passing moment, frustration built. He tried to release his anxieties to the Force but was unable too.

He would go back to the Council and beg them for a mission. At this point he didn't care what it was, just as long as he could leave the temple.

Obi-Wan wandered what he had done to displease the Council into torturing him so. He didn't belong there and they knew it.

It didn't matter that Bant had tried to integrate him back into temple life.

It was a futile attempt, he had known it all along.

A strange sensation reached out and grasped his desperate, wandering thoughts. His first instinct was to drive the tingling sensation back. The familiarity of it unnerved him. He didn't want it.

Not again.

Pale blue eyes opened.

A little gasp as Bali skittered back a step.

Quickly, Obi-Wan relaxed sensing the uncontrolled waves of fear emanating from the small boy. "Hello," the knight said gently, trying not to scare the boy anymore than he already was.

Bright green eyes studied him warily. Bali slowly drew a foot back a foot then stood ready to bolt at the slightest movement.

Obi-Wan noted that the little boy hadn't seemed so scared of him the other day. "No!" he snapped sensing the boy's fear and panic in his mind. Quickly he slammed his shields down, mentally shoving the touch of the boy's mind roughly away.

A terrified squeak as Bali stumbled backwards, falling into the grass. Instinctively Obi-Wan moved to help the boy, but Bali struggled quickly to his feet, putting a good distance between them.

The knight was surprised by the boy's reaction. He hadn't meant to push Bali so hard but he didn't realize just how far the boy had penetrated his shields. Carefully, Obi-Wan withdrew back into the meditative stance so he would be less threatening to the child.

"Are you a ghost?" Bali asked softly as he clutched his small hands together nervously.

"What?" An odd question, Obi-Wan thought. "No."

__

Depends on whom you ask.

"Are you cursed?"

"Not that I know of." Obi-Wan shifted slightly only to have Bali skitter further backwards.

"Are you evil?"

Obi-Wan gave a slight frown as he allowed a soft groan to escape. "What do you think?" he asked carefully, concerned that any he said or did would only end upsetting the boy.

"Can't sense you," the boy replied. "A ghost," he whispered as he took off running.

Slowly Obi-Wan bowed his head as he sighed loudly. What kind of monster had he become that he frightened small children?


	19. Books of Temple Ghosts 6, Sith Killer, R...

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part VI

"Obi-Wan is capable."

"That was never in question. Nor was it what we are asking, Master Jinn." Mace Windu leaned back in his seat in the Council chambers. His attention turned to the silent apprentice who stood a step from Qui-Gon. "Padawan Kenobi has insisted on formally taking his trials." 

Qui-Gon turned to stare at the young man next to him with surprise. He reached out through the bond but found it blocked. "Why?" 

There was a long hesitation before Obi-Wan turned to face his master. It was taking much of his concentration to keep from quivering. He had told his master that he would stand beside him in the council meeting but the long walk to the chambers had been harder on him than expected. The words were slow, almost guarded as he answered his master's questioning look. "Master, all I did was kill an enemy." 

Humble. 

__

Belying the trial by fire that instantly should have elevated him to knighthood. 

__

Belying the nom de guerre _that would forever overshadow any achievement. _

Sith killer.

The Jedi master turned to look curiously at several of the Council members. He tightened his lips into a fine line as he noted the pleased looks that stared back. Settling his gaze on Yoda, Qui-Gon asked, "And what in the weeks until Obi-Wan takes his trials shall be done with Anakin?"

"Anakin's fate has been decided," Ki-Adi-Mundi said dryly. "Tell me that you are not taking our time to argue this point again?"

"The boy should remain with me."

Yoda drew his ears back and tightened his gaze on the master. 

"Housing has been found in the initiate dorms," Adi Gallia responded. 

"This is culture shock for Anakin," Qui-Gon said evenly. "Throwing him into the dorms is likely too–"

"He will adapt," Mace said cutting off any argument. 

"I request that Anakin be allowed to remain in my apartment." 

Obi-Wan was beyond surprise to anything his master would say when it concerned the boy. He did not glance up.

"Those apartments are sized for two only. There already are two occupants," Adi said a little more forcefully showing that more authority must be shown with the maverick master. 

Qui-Gon frowned. After a moment of quiet contemplation he glanced about with a determined expression. "There is no reason to put off Obi-Wan's knighting. He has more than proven himself." 

"It is by Padawan Kenobi's request that he completes the trials," Mace said his cool expression giving no hint of his growing agitation. 

The graying Jedi master turned again to glance at his apprentice whose eyes were cast downward at the designs in the tiled floor. The young man's expression was solemn. _"You do not need to take the trials."_

The circle of masters held silent counsel.

Then Mace leaned forward in his seat. While his words never lost their authority, they were spoken in a somewhat gentler fashion as he stared at Obi-Wan. "What is your opinion of this, Padawan Kenobi?" 

The apprentice looked up and met the senior council member's gaze. "I will do as my master wishes."

______________

__

The Book of the Sith Killer

Obi-Wan should have known it was a mistake. He should never have put himself in that position.

Still he couldn't begin to explain why he had even tried.

It had been foolish to think a timid initiate would be any different than everyone else.

He silently stalked into the center of a large practice room reserved by experienced knights and masters during the brighter hours of the day. For a long time he just stood in the center of the empty sparring floor.

Slowly closing his eyes he searched for his calm center.

As usual it eluded him. 

In its wake there was something else. It reminded him of Tatooine. Staring out into the never ending sea of sand dunes. What was strange and maybe a little frightening was he knew it wasn't a memory. Certainly he had plenty of those. 

This was different. 

Inside the vision he was alone, more so than now. 

Squeezing his eyes closed even tighter he pushed the images away. He couldn't even handle the here and now let alone worry about the future. Besides, hadn't someone he trusted always told to keep his concentration on the here and now where it belonged?

He didn't want to think about that. At least not anymore.

Pushing the warring thoughts away his attention focused on the saber hilt tight in his grip.

A quick sweeping motion as he activated the glowing blue blade. Carefully he pulled a heavy blindfold over his eyes and with the sweep of his hand a training probe sprang to life. 

It hummed and circled the knight. 

Static bolts of electricity shot out and was easily blocked by the temporarily blinded figure.

Obi-Wan focused and opened his mind allowing the Force to guide him as he deflected the stinging bolts fired at him. Another motion of his hand and a second sphere came to life.

Then a third.

He moved faster returning every bolt shot from his three automated attackers.

Without hesitation he drew a fourth sphere into the fray and he easily out maneuvered all four machines. Breathing heavily he stepped it up a notch by adding a fifth.

Focused completely on the five spheres that circled him firing a successive volley of static bolts. Obi-Wan twisted and moved. Shifted and threw himself in and out of the practice droid's sights avoiding every shot. 

With barely a conscious thought he sent a sixth and a seventh into action. All of the drones fired from different directions.

Moving almost quicker than the naked eye could perceive he blocked all of the bolts.

This was what he was good at. He had worked hard to prepare himself for the difficult missions. His senses were completely focused on taking out every shot fired at him. His life depended on it. More importantly the lives of those he was sent to retrieve depended on it. 

Faster.

His breathing hitched as he moved to intercept several shots. 

He missed one bolt and it snapped harmlessly against the floor.

Not good enough. 

That could have been an ambassador.

He twisted again sending the shots back at the spheres striking them with an explosive crackling noise indicating the machines had been disabled. One by one returned to their shelf perches until Obi-Wan was left standing alone again in the middle of the practice floor. 

He breathed heavily as a cold sweat clung to his skin. 

__

Sith killer.

The words were murmured just on the edge of his perception. Obi-Wan could sense them. The whispers seemed all around him as he pulled the blindfold away to see that he was no longer alone. Nearly a dozen masters and knights stood at the edge of the room watching. Their stoic expressions barely masked the awe and concern over the presence of such a warrior in the temple.

_______________

__

The Book of Regrets

"Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked softly. His weary eyes studied the boy across the small room.

"Yes, Master?" Anakin answered obediently as he looked up from where his face had been buried.

"You've been quiet for some time, I was concerned."

"I'm sorry." The boy's voice was pitiful as he buried his face back into the folds of his cloak.

"Don't be," the Jedi master whispered from his place next to Anakin in the cramped prison cell. The tall man leaned back against the wall. His bones ached from the tight position he had been sitting in. He wrapped a warm arm across the boy's shoulders. "I was in so much of a hurry to get out of the temple I never considered how dangerous a situation we were walking into."

"The Council sent us," Anakin said tiredly. His chest still hurt and gingerly pressed a hand to it. "Everyone thought it was a true mission."

Qui-Gon frowned at his padawan's insight. "Yes, but I should have known."

Anakin laughed, pressing the side of his face to Qui-Gon's shoulder. "Master, you can't possibly know everything." 

Comforting the boy, Qui-Gon whispered, "I know you're the best apprentice I've ever had."

A frown returned to the boy and he pulled away.

"Padawan?" Qui-Gon could sense how upset the boy was but could do nothing but wait.

"Master?" came a quiet voice but Anakin did not meet the steady gaze.

"Yes, Padawan."

"I did somethingterrible."

Qui-Gon fought not to withdraw but the concern was there. Again his padawan had done something questionable. Something that was growing increasingly hard to overlook. "What is it, padawan?"

Anakin's gaze fell to the cell's grimy floor. "I knew you were talking to Master Mace."

"You shouldn't have been listening in," Qui-Gon said attempting to mask the embarrassment of realizing he hadn't sensed the youth's intrusion. Anakin either was more skilled than he let on or the old master was slipping. Still, he didn't think Mace had realized it either.

For a long time, Qui-Gon just stared at Anakin. What could he say that hadn't already been said? A part of him worried that he was loosing control of Anakin. He knew when he insisted on training the boy that it was going to be an uphill battle. Still, every night he still wondered if he should have listened to Yoda. 

No, he shook it off. His nerves were frayed that was all. He had followed up a particularly rough mission with a stressful temple stay only to be run into another unpleasant situation. 

The venerable master realized that the boy was staring at him. "Yes?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I did?"

Qui-Gon frowned but conceded. "What happened, padawan?" He made sure to keep the words even and full of compassion. 

"There's this little initiate. He's eight, but he's little."

The master tried to ease his expression, not to allow the boy to know he already knew where the conversation was unfortunately going.

"I was mad," Anakin said plaintively as if that excused what he was going to say next. "It's not fair Obi-Wan hurt you and you can't do anything to make the pain go away."

"Anakin–"

"I didn't know that he didn't tell you about the knighting ceremony."

"That is the past."

"But it still hurts you. I promise, my Master that I won't ever treat you like that. I'll be proud to have you stand by my side and cut my braid off." The boy smiled as he lightly tugged on the tight little braid with one blue bead woven into it.

Qui-Gon smiled but still remained apprehensive of the truth that Anakin was threatening to reveal. 

"I wanted to hurt him like he hurt you." 

__

Me. 

"What did you do, Anakin?" The master asked carefully.

"There's a connection between him and the initiate. I sensed it."

Qui-Gon mentally summoned the image of Obi-Wan kneeling on the floor trying to speak to the small boy. He had refused to acknowledge the gentleness in the knight's attempt at communication with the boy. A distant part of him realized just how bitter he had allowed himself to become that he could not or would not see the sensitive soul his former padawan had been once. 

"I was mad," Anakin repeated as if unsure he wanted to continue the conversation. "Told him that Obi-Wan was mean."

Qui-Gon smiled slightly as if relieved by the revelation. 

"I told the boy he was cursed because he killed a Sith. That it changed him."

The smile slipped away. 

"I said he was a monster."

For a long time the master sat silently, staring at the dark wall. 

What part of Qui-Gon was going to admonish the boy?

He would not meet the youth's longing gaze. What the boy had said was wrong.

__

A monster.

He had used those words too.

Even believed them for a very long time.

Anakin didn't try to meet his master's gaze. He was ashamed. "The kid was scared. I said all these things and it scared the kid. You should have seen his eyes when I called Knight Kenobi a ghost."

"Why would you say that?" Qui-Gon asked calmly.

"Come on, Master. He's not there when he is. I wish I could shield myself as well as he does." Anakin frowned and curled up beneath his master's heavy cloak. He wasn't feeling so good. 

"When we returned to the temple," Qui-Gon said with a firm tone as if there was no doubt, "you will apologize to the boy. An initiate's life is hard enough without being terrorized by horror stories."

"Yes, my Master."

Still, Qui-Gon couldn't shake the cruelty in Anakin's words. 

Words that he had used too many times to describe Obi-Wan.


	20. Books of the Wounded, Decisions,Trust

__

The Book of the Wounded

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." The words had been spoken lightly, but Bant remained tense until Obi-Wan collapsed into the chair at the far corner of her secluded table.

Obi-Wan shot her a sharp look. "Have I let you down yet?"

Bant remained silent for a moment. She could feel it, the warning radiating from the knight. She tried to keep her tone easy. "Well, at least one of us can keep our word, I almost didn't make it." The healer smiled but didn't garner any reaction from her friend. "Oh, fine, just be that way." 

Slowly Obi-Wan drew his fingers across the smooth tabletop. By his distant look, he was hyper aware of everything around him.

"This is the temple," Bant whispered. "No one is out to get you. No bad guys. No hostage situations." She hesitated, waiting for him to draw back his defensives, but he didn't. "You scare me when you are like this."

Obi-Wan's expression softened as he drew his defenses in slightly.

It still wasn't enough but she knew it was all she was going to get from him for a moment. "That's why they're keeping you here. You're becoming dangerous. This isn't like you."

"Then you tell me what me is. I would like to know," Obi-Wan snapped.

Bant turned her silvery eyes away in frustration and stared into the dining area. A crèche master and two small children sat at a table eating ice cream. The little kids giggled as they hurriedly ate their melting cones. 

Glancing back, she noted the hardness still in his eyes.

Frustration reflected in her voice, "I met your replacement today."

"I thought that happened some time ago."

Playfully Bant slapped his tight shoulder. "I'm not talking about _them_. In the healing center I met an initiate that beats your legendary fear of the place."

"I was never afraid. I just disliked it," Obi-Wan said indignantly as he glanced away. Focusing his attention on the invisible circles his fingers were drawing on the table.

"All right, I have met an initiate who has your legendary _dislike_ of healers." She leaned forward slightly and showed Obi-Wan a dark discoloration of the salmon colored skin of her arm. "You would have thought I was trying to kill him. He was terrified."

"You with a big needle promising it won't hurt would scare anyone."

"I only treat you like bad because you deserve to be treated like that." She laughed. "I'm much nicer to everyone else."

"Oh, and I thought it was just your wonderful bedside manner."

"You'll think it the next time I get you in there."

"Don't hold your breath," Obi-Wan said allowing a small smile to escape.

Bant's eyes danced as she reached around the edge of the table and hugged her friend with a mild grin. "Now if I could get you to smile like that more often."

"What was wrong with the boy?" Obi-Wan asked absently as Bant eased back in her seat.

"He was scared. Master Na'tho found him hiding in a vent for almost two days. Every time they tried to pull him out he would freak out. Master Na'tho banged him up pretty bad trying to extricate him." She giggled. "Maybe they should have sent you after him?" Catching her friend's frown, "No one knows what scared him." She smiled a little. "You could hear him screaming from down the hall when they carried him in."

Obi-Wan sank in his chair slightly. "I don't suppose his name was Bali Tiro?"

"How did you know?"

He just shook his head as he stood up and walked slowly away. 

______________

__

The Book of Decisions

In the center of the quiet Council chamber a holo projection fluctuated and shimmered. The image of a tall, female Jedi stood, her smooth features gave no sign of emotion. She stared out blankly at the circle of masters.

Her static filled voice came through the com. "Masters, the Tarsian Government has banned all attempts at landing. They have ordered any ship entering their atmosphere to be shot down. They have refused to even speak about setting up a negotiation."

"Master Liro," Mace began coolly, "we now know the call for help from the Tarsians was merely a ruse."

"A very elaborate ruse," Liro responded as her image flickered slightly. "General Soloban has been in power for nearly a standard year. The royal family was executed during the coup."

"We should have known," Ki-Adi-Mundi said.

"With all due respect masters," Tanin Liro replied, "this ruse has been carried into the Senate. There has been nothing outside the planet to suggest that the peace accords have been abolished. The Senate does not recognize the government has been overthrown."

The circle of twelve sat in silent counsel.

Adi Gallia, a master negotiator herself, eyed the shimmering figure that stared away from her. "Is there any hope of resolving this peacefully?"

"I do not believe so." There was a moment of hesitation in the tall master. "My sources have confirmed Master Jinn and his apprentice are scheduled to be executed within two days. They are to be made examples of to the people. No one defies Soloban and lives."

Again silence clouded the room.

"Thank you, Master Liro," Mace said as he waved his hand in dismissal.

Liro bowed just before her imaged fluttered and faded.

"If Liro is right, then we only have no time," Ki-Adi Mundi said as he leaned forward in his chair. His soft spoken tone belied the severity of the words, "We must take action now."

Mace Windu lightly massage his temples. 

"I agree," Adi Gallia said quickly.

For a moment, Mace studied Adi's set features. She was many things but never one to jump into a fight without exhausting all possible options first.

"We are risking–"

"The lives of two Jedi," Plo Koon interrupted, "who were lured to the planet under false pretenses for the sole purpose of being made examples of. There were no negotiations. This is an illegal hostage situation."

"The Senate is not involved politically," Adi said. "This is an internal situation."

"We could end up loosing more Jedi in the process," Mace said even though he knew he was very well consigning his friend to death by not doing anything.

Depa Billaba straightened in her seat. "This is a dangerous situation."

Finally, a voice of reason, Mace thought.

The female council member carefully eyed many of the other masters around the room before she spoke again. "Not only are we risking the lives of Master Jinn and Padawan Skywalker, we are risking the life of anyone we send after them. Plus," she said firmly, "it must be handled quietly. The last thing anyone needs to deal with is a galactic incident."

"Soloban would turn this into an incident. He is not favorable toward the Jedi," Plo Koon explained. "He would do anything for revenge. Especially against Qui-Gon Jinn since he was the one who mediated the peace accords that had him exiled eight years ago."

A grim silence moved through the room.

Yoda who had been quietly listening to the proceedings finally spoke up in his gravelly voice. "Send Knight Kenobi, we will."

"Is that wise?" Mace asked, surprised at Yoda's sudden reversal.

The little green master's ears drooped. "Choice, we have not."

"Master," Mace said slowly, "I do not believe that is the best course. He is confined to the temple for a reason."

"Expert we need. Expert he is."

Depa spoke slowly. "He is not psychologically capable of handling a mission like this."

Yoda sighed as he gently stirred his gimer stick. "Capable he is," the little master softly argued.

Mace sat silently studying Yoda's saddened expression. "We risk losing three Jedi."

"Fail, he will not," Yoda said firmly. "Fail he does not know how too. He would assure the rescue of Qui-Gon and the boy."

"But would he return?"

"Give him reason, I will," Yoda said firmly. "Return, he will."

"Master, you can no more promise that than stop the planetary rotation."

______________

__

The Book of Trust

The echo of children filled the large practice room. Their calls and voices reflected the hard work they were putting into their saber practice.

The memory of his time spent there was both bitter and joyous, Obi-Wan absently thought as he stopped in the doorway and watched the children clamor about. Slowly he searched the faces until he found Bali sparring with another boy nearly a head taller.

By being there–he knew–he was only going to make things worse.

The boy was afraid of him. Just like everyone else.

__

The rejected padawan. 

The Sith killer.

He had no business being there.

Facing that certain truth, Obi-Wan decided to quietly slip out before he was noticed.

He didn't get very far.

"Good afternoon," Master Na'tho said as he quietly approached.

Obi-Wan straightened, unhappy about being caught. Unconsciously he tugged at the edges of his cloak. His gaze remained steady on the boy. Pushing back any sense of hurt in his voice, but keeping it soft and gentle he asked, "May I speak to Bali Tiro?"

"Of course," Na'tho's yellow eyes lit up with hope. "Of course," cheer rang in the old master's voice. He turned, clapping his hands and drawing the children's brief attention. "Bali, come here small one."

The little initiate stopped and looked curiously up at the tall supervising master. Then his bright green eyes flashed to the knight. He froze in place.

"My little Bali is a nervous one, you'll have to forgive that."

"I understand," Obi-Wan replied calmly not really blaming the boy. At first he wanted to fold his arms into the warm sleeves of his cloak but hesitated, fearing the sight would only frighten the boy more.

Na'tho motioned Bali to come but the little boy refused to move. A look of frustration danced over the elder master's face as he went to the boy and lightly grasped Bali's limp hand. With a little tug, he lead Bali back to where Obi-Wan was quietly standing. "You have an important visitor. A knight has come to see you."

Any other child would have been ecstatic at such a visit, but Bali pulled his hand free of Na'tho's and ducked behind the master's flowing robe.

Obi-Wan just stared at the painfully frightened eyes that peeked around Na'tho's cloak. 

Taking a long, deep breath, the knight consciously relaxed his intricate mental shielding. But only enough to allow the little boy to see he had a Force presence.

Na'tho quietly stepped to the side exposing Bali. "If you need anything–"

"We'll be fine," Obi-Wan said softly and waited for the master to gain a certain distance. 

Bali withdrew a step. He twisted and looked back worriedly at the initiate master. A slight movement on Obi-Wan's part drew Bali's nervous attention.

Slowly, the knight slipped to a meditative stance on the floor putting him almost at eye level with the little boy. Every instinct and warning told him to close up his shields. Block the boy out.

Bali's terrified green eyes told him something else.

For a long time he just studied the little boy.

The dark haired initiate squinted, then drew his left foot back as if to step away but hesitated. Then slowly he stepped forward. First one then two until the small boy was standing directly in front of Obi-Wan. Timidly he reached out and poked the knight in the shoulder. A look of confusion clouded the boy's features. Again he reached out and poked Obi-Wan in the shoulder a little harder. A smile danced across the boy's face as he pressed a small finger against the tight shoulder muscles. "You can't touch ghosts," he whispered.

Obi-Wan remained motionless. 

Bali withdrew slightly. "He told me you were a ghost."

"Who told you?"

The initiate glanced about, then leaned forward slightly. He whispered as if giving away a great secret, "The important padawan. He said you were a ghost. Killing a Sith changed you."

Obi-Wan bristled. Even the innocence of an initiate could not protect him from that moniker. "Who said this to you?" He pressed gently.

Bali carefully rested his hand against the knight's shoulder, making sure the man before him was still real. "The important padawan," Bali stressed as if Obi-Wan should know whom the boy was speaking of.

Sighing, Obi-Wan reached up and massaged his temple. The small boy skittered backward just beyond his reach. Obi-Wan looked up, surprised by the sudden reaction. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly but it did nothing for the fearful look in the boy. "Anakin Skywalker?"

Bali nodded.

Obi-Wan relaxed slightly. 

Carefully Bali approached again. A mixture of fear and curiosity danced in the boy's Force signature. Again he poked Obi-Wan in the shoulder and smiled.

The Jedi knight instantly recognized the touch of the boy's mind and for a moment was surprised by it.

Bali's eyes widened.

Confusion was the first shared emotion. Obi-Wan couldn't tell where his ended and Bali's began. "No!" he growled as the little boy's thoughts mingled with his own. In an almost violent act he slammed his shields down.

Bali went one direction while Obi-Wan went the other. The knight tumbled and fell to a mat. He turned quickly to see where Bali had disappeared too. Immediately, he locked eyes with the little boy who was sprawled across the floor.

The knight reached out as the boy started to crawl away. "I'm sorry."

"I can't sense you." Bali backed away. 

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan whispered. He held his hand out, palm up to the little boy. "I'm still here."

Yet he did not relax his shielding. He didn't want the boy in his mind. He didn't want to share his thoughts. He didn't want a bond.

For a long time the small initiate just stared at him. Then slowly, Bali got up and walked cautiously toward Obi-Wan's outstretched hand. He smiled as his trembling fingers brushed against the larger, warm hand.

Relief echoed in the boy's aura.

A curious look crossed Bali's face as his gaze met Obi-Wan's. "Why do you dream of sand?"


	21. Books of Final Mission, Lost Hope, Leavi...

__

The Book of Final Missions

"There has to be a mission. Something. A hostage situation, anything," Obi-Wan said quickly. He paused to breathe deeply and relax himself but the act was futile. Panic danced at the edge of normally impassive eyes as he glanced around the circle of twelve in the council chambers. "A mission," he demanded, "please."

Silence hung in the round room like a thick miasma. The twelve master's studied the figure that turned slightly to visually address each one of them.

"Masters," he pressed.

"This is unlike you, Knight Kenobi," Mace Windu said calmly.

Unwilling to back down, Obi-Wan continued, "I would better serve in the field, Masters."

"That is your opinion," Depa Billaba replied.

Obi-Wan turned to face the usually quiet master. "I serve no purpose here," he mildly growled. "Send me away."

Yoda and Mace exchanged passive glances before turning their attention to the panicked knight.

Obi-Wan straightened, knowing he was so far out of line that the masters were well in their right to swat him down. Hard. Attempting to calm himself, he turned slowly to face the senior members of the council. Drawing inward, Obi-Wan carefully pushed all the stray thoughts away that were trying to settle in his mind. He was certain the masters could sense the fear in him.

That little boy had been someplace deep in his mind that he had trouble admitting to himself that it existed.

And maybe there was anger for allowing himself to be opened up to the violation.

"Adjusting you were," Yoda said slowly, slowly stirring his gimer stick.

"No, Master. I have not. I am not comfortable here and an extended stay serves me no purpose," came the gruff reply. He fought to maintain his calmness. "Please, send me away."

Irritably, Yoda's gravelly voice filled the room. "What of Bali Tiro?"

"What of him, Master?" Obi-Wan answered coolly, almost coldly. "I am not interested in your games."

Mace quirked an eyebrow.

"I will not take a padawan. Find him a willing master."

Drawing his ears back, the little green master narrowed his eyes and studied the fierce figure in the center of the room. "A bond, forming it is." It was not spoken as a question.

Obi-Wan turned his complete attention of the ancient master. "I will not allow it."

"Refused it you have!" Yoda said coarsely thumping the gimer stick hard against the floor. "Unwilling to change you are. Stubborn, like your former master."

"I have no interest–"

"You should," Mace said curtly. 

Obi-Wan stared at the other master coldly. Again he demanded, "Send me away."

Mace leaned forward in his seat. His dark eyes coarsely studied the knight before him. His tone was calm, as if questioning an upset child. "You want another assignment?"

"Yes, Master."

"One that is very dangerous?"

"That's what I am good at."

"One that will very likely get you killed?"

Obi-Wan remained silent. He straightened slightly and tugged at the edges of his cloak drawing them closed. Scanning the room, he sensed the silent counsel. The words spoken were slow, deliberate, "I will do everything in my power to make sure whoever I am sent to rescue is returned safely."

Evidently pleased with the response, Mace leaned back in his chair and continued in his normal tone, "Then there is a mission that is suited to you."

Good. After all, that's all Obi-Wan ever wanted. He relaxed slightly. Briefly he noticed Yoda was staring out the window. The little master's eyes were half closed and his ears drooped slightly. But with the sound of Mace's voice, Obi-Wan drew his attention away from the unhappy little creature.

"There will be no more missions like this for you, ever again."

"Until next–"

"We forbid it," Mace said sternly.

Obi-Wan inclined his head slightly. "Yes, Master."

__

There will always be a need for his talents.

A long silence hung in the council chambers as the various masters studied the silent knight standing before them. They waited as if expecting him to recant and wish to stay at the temple.

With a resigned tone, Mace continued, "There is little preparation time. Your transport is being prepped as we speak." As if there had been no doubt that Obi-Wan would jump at the mission. "There is a hostage situation on the Tarsis colony of Pentua. It is a highly hostile situation."

Ki Adi Mundi leaned forward slightly and spoke slowly. "They had requested a negotiator as the treaty has been broken. You are familiar with the Tarsis Accords?"

Obi-Wan's still expression gave no hint of any recognition or emotion concerning the question. "Yes."

Adi Gallia picked up. "It was a well planned ruse. The government had been over thrown by one of their military commanders. Anyone who had been involved in the creation of the original treaty has been executed. We did not know this until very recently."

Still the stoic expression remained, masking the uneasy current moving just beneath the surface. Obi-Wan silently studied the masters. He knew they were gauging his reaction to every word spoken. This was not an ordinary assignment. "Master Jinn and his padawan are being held." 

"We are allowing you to go," Mundi said as he leaned back in his seat, "because you are familiar with Tarsis."

Obi-Wan stared blankly out. He didn't want to meet any of the master's gazes. Then slowly he looked across at Yoda who still stared sadly out the window.

"I am ready." The words came out slow and strong as they always had. Leaving no room for doubt in his mindset or abilities.

"Do not rush into this mission seeking for a purpose," Plo Koon advised from behind his breathing mask. "This is an extremely hostile situation. You are a criminal as well to the Tarsis as you attended the negotiations alongside Master Jinn."

"Of course, Master. I will attend to this no different than any other mission." 

"It will be a day journey to the colony. I expect that will be enough time to go over the mission data?" Mace asked.

"Yes." He had done this many times with far less preparation. 

"You are free to leave when you are prepared."

Obi-Wan stiffly bowed and marched from the room.

Mace glanced over at Yoda.

The small master sighed as he turned his gaze to the door. "Option, there was not."

______________

__

The Book of Lost Hope

"Master?" Anakin whispered.

"Yes, padawan."

"We're not getting out of here, are we?"

"Yes, we are," Qui-Gon stressed. "Just remember, your focus determines your reality. As long as we continue to believe that there is a way out, we will find it. All is not lost yet."

"Yes, Master."

The venerable master reached over to the smaller form huddled against him. Even without the aid of the Force, he could sense Anakin's pain. The boy was meditating and focusing but he still hurt. The occasional sharp breaths only made the great master's heart ache. "My poor, brave padawan," he whispered. "Even when we were sorely outnumbered you wanted to fight."

But even a Jedi is no match for a well targeted stun bolt, let alone dozens waiting in ambush.

______________

__

The Book of Leaving

The lift doors opened and Obi-Wan stepped out onto his residential level. He just stood there quietly as the door slipped closed behind him. It was the right thing to do, he told himself half-heartedly. He didn't belong in the temple anymore. 

It was better that he left. The council had to know that. Otherwise they wouldn't have let him go. 

Right?

He was serving. Doing what he was raised and trained to do. Helping those in need. He would be betraying himself and the Order if he went into this mission thinking anything less.

All that mattered was the safety of those he was sent to retrieve. 

No matter who they were.

Dragging the edges of his cloak tight he started down the hall. He didn't have time to contemplate anything. He had a mission and their time was almost out.

Obi-Wan rounded the corner to the little corridor that lead to his apartment. He didn't even slow his pace when he saw Bant leaning unhappily against the door.

"You were supposed to meet me at the archives," she said irritably as she stepped out of Obi-Wan's way.

"I went before the council," he said absently palming the door open.

Bant's salmon features softened into a mask of worry. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

"I don't have the time," he responded pushing past her into the dark apartment. "I need to leave immediately."

Bant chased him inside. "You're going somewhere?" apprehension radiated in her voice. "No, the council forbid–"

"They changed their minds." He paid his friend little attention as he disappeared into the other room. Within a moment he reappeared with a small travel bag.

"No," she said quickly moving to block the doorway. "They can't do this." 

"Move, Bant."

"No. You're supposed to stay here," her voice trembled.

"I can't do that."

The dour expression on Obi-Wan's face was all Bant needed to solidify her resolve. She braced herself against the doorframe. He was not going to escape, she didn't care what she had to do. "No more missions. Please. Not these. No more extractions. Don't let them push you into it."

"I requested it." He stared at the Mon Calamari for a moment. "Move."

"No."

Obi-Wan sighed. Then wrapped his arms around her waist, he lifted her from the doorway and set her out of his way. "Shut the door when you leave." 

Long strides carried Obi-Wan down the hall in an attempt to quickly escape the healer, but he knew Bant was only a few steps behind. Her sniffles gave her away.

At the lift he spun to face her while throwing out an arm to block her from following him into the compartment. "I have to do this."

"No, you don't. They can find someone else."

"Someone else doesn't know Tarsis as well as I do. Someone else has more to lose than I do. This is what I do, Bant. This is what I'm good at, let me do it."

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"There's risk in everything. Jedi die even when the situations are not dangerous. There are no guarantees anywhere. Let me do what I can. Let me fulfil my purpose."

Bant chased him onto the lift. "You told me you felt like you didn't have a purpose."

"When I am not doing this."

She grabbed his arm and clung tightly to it as the lift went into motion. "No. Tell the council you changed your mind. Don't do this, Obi-Wan."

He stared at her for a moment. Pain and fear echoed in her features. He wasn't sure he had ever really seen that in her. "I'm sorry," he whispered as the lift settled at its stop.

"Things were changing. You were starting to enjoy yourself. Having fun with all of my little projects."

"I enjoyed it." Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Bant and hugged her tightly as the lift door opened. "You're a good friend and you deserve better." Then slowly he pulled free of her.

"Don't," she sobbed.

He didn't look back as he walked through the long hall toward the temple hangar. Casting out on the Force he could sense Bant still in the small lift compartment just standing there. Crying. He was thankful that she did not follow him further. Unsure that if he hesitated he wouldn't be able to leave.

The corridor to the hangar seemed longer than usual. 

He picked up his pace, concern filling him that it might actually be hard to willingly leave the temple.

__

Home.

Not anymore, he conceded. The temple had not been his home in years. Even if that's what he still wished of the ancient structure. He had spent too much of his time–his life–avoiding the one thing that was familiar. 

Relief flooded the knight as he stepped into the large hangar. His attentions breezed past the varied collection of transports the Jedi used. Nestled back in a corner sat a small Corellian runner. It held up to three passengers in a cramped space and was heavily armed for those rough escapes.

Obi-Wan's pace slowed as he drew in a sharp breath. Perched on the open loading ramp, was the small green master. Yoda stared blandly out as he rested his chin against the crook of his walking stick.

He should have known his escape wasn't going to be easy.

Worse, behind the small master stood a nervous Bali Tiro.

"Master," Obi-Wan said approaching and formally bowing.

"Fast you are," the little master said studying the knight for a moment. He glanced back at Bali who executed a formal bow.

"Knight Kenobi," the small boy said. 

Obi-Wan shot Yoda a sharp look.

The little master returned with a wrinkly smile. 

Bali slowly stepped forward, his eyes were cast to the ground but after a moment he glanced up. "Master Yoda says you are going on an important mission."

"Yes." Obi-Wan eased his expression and knelt before Bali. He consciously reminded himself to take it easy, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten the boy.

Cautiously Bali reached out and poked Obi-Wan in the shoulder. He gave a mildly reassured smile. "I wanted to wish you a safe journey."

"Thank you." 

Cherubic excitement glossed over the boy's features. "When you get back, maybe can we spar again?"

Reinforcing his shields, Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course."

Yoda drew his ears back slightly studying the scene. "Return to your classes, speak with Knight Kenobi alone, I must."

Bali bowed at the dismissal and scampered back toward the corridor. He turned, "May the Force be with you." Then ran off.

The smile faded as Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Yoda. "You shouldn't have done that," he growled to the little master.

"Done what, have I?"

"Offering the boy hope. There isn't any."

"Not coming back are you?" Yoda asked with mock inquisitiveness.

"Master," Obi-Wan warned. "It doesn't matter, I'm not taking a padawan."

"Humph." Yoda poked at Obi-Wan with his gimer stick. "Stubborn you are. Blocking the bond."

"I do not want to deal with a training bond. Not again."

"Break it, you are afraid he will," the little master observed.

"Master–"

"No." Yoda tapped his stick against the floor and started to pace before the knight. "Wounded you are, understand I do." He sighed as he stopped to study Obi-Wan. "Wounds heal. You are not. Good for you a padawan would be."

"No, Master."

"Discuss this when you return," came the sharp reply.

"Master–"

"Suffer Qui-Gon's defiance you do. Should know, win I will." Yoda leaned heavily against his gimer stick. "The boy, hope I did not offer. For you, hope is. Something to return for, now you have. The boy will worry. Block it, you cannot."

"You are asking too much of me."

"Need him, you do."


	22. Books of the Believer, Temble Ghosts 7

****

Part III

__

The Book of the Believer

The collar was warm, smooth. Anakin slowly drew his fingers along the surface, searching for any change in the band that indicated a possible clasp. Nothing, he growled in frustration. The collar remained snuggly fit to his neck.

It was little more than a modified slaver's collar, which made it all the more difficult to break free of. He had seen them growing up on Tatooine. They had belonged to slaves whose masters often traded them or did not have the money to have a transmitter implanted in the body. They were just as effective and just as deadly.

Still, Anakin knew this collar was different from the horrific memories of his early childhood. Something about this collar blocked his connection to the Force. It was the first time in his life that it had been taken away from him. The sensation reminded him of being stripped naked and tossed out into the cold. He didn't like the cold.

Sighing softly Anakin dropped his hands and folded his arms across his aching chest. He thought of the cruel laughter of the soldiers that had attacked them. They had tried to fend off the blaster fire but a stun bolt from behind had taken Qui-Gon out. Protecting his fallen master's body, the youth had deftly deflected the blaster bolts taking down several of the men. When a paralyzing shot had finally dropped him the fearless soldiers came at him with their boots.

He had thought the first thunderous kick would kill him. Wielding the Force in his dazed state he managed to lessen the impact of the blow. Unfortunately he suffered many before finally passing out.

Giving a small grimace, Anakin twisted sore neck muscles to glance up at his sleeping master.

Qui-Gon had remained protectively close provided the physical support the youth needed. With a weak smile, Anakin nestled the side of his face against Qui-Gon's creamy colored tunic. The elder Jedi had remained alert–awake–throughout the entire ordeal, only taking brief pauses for regenerative meditation. Anakin knew he was worried. At the moment, though, Anakin sensed that the need for sleep had claimed his old master.

The youth hoped that Qui-Gon had found peace in his slumber. Since he had confessed his attack on the initiate his master had seemed distant. He had expected Qui-Gon to be upset with him. Verbally reprimand him with a promise of more when they returned to the temple, _if_ they returned to the temple. He expected to be hauled before the council to explain his actions. 

He hadn't expected the sadness that crept into his master's eyes.

In an effort to avenge his master he had only wounded him.

Qui-Gon was the only person who truly believed in him from the Jedi temple.

The thought provoked a tinge of sadness.

Qui-Gon had risked so much for him. Anakin was grateful, yet fearful that he could never live up to all of his master's hopes and dreams. After all Qui-Gon had nearly ruined himself too many times before the council in the youth's name. Several times alone just to garner the right to train him. Even now at every turn his master put his reputation on the line to protect him. He stood up for him when everyone else wanted to dismiss him. 

Qui-Gon had always been the kind and gentle voice that pushed him to excel. The only one who cared when he succeeded.

He would do anything and follow his master to the ends of the galaxy if only he asked. 

His master was a good man who cared nothing for himself only the greater good. No one else would have given a slave boy a second glance but Qui-Gon had spoken to him and treated him as if he were as important as anyone else.

There was no fondness when Anakin looked back on the first few months of temple life. A part of him had been overwhelmed by the situation. The other part hated it. Especially the hours that were spent in Obi-Wan's presence.

Those memories he had tried so hard to bury.

He felt like he was always competing with Obi-Wan for Qui-Gon's attention. That and he was certain he had been the source of most of their arguing. Well, at least until they stopped speaking to each other.

A few days after that he had returned from the cafeteria to find Qui-Gon weeping in Obi-Wan's newly emptied room. 

__

His room.

It was the only time he had ever seen his master cry.

After Obi-Wan had left, things got better.

Qui-Gon's attentions turned to training him. 

He adjusted to temple life. In no time at all he had caught up to the children in his age group. Now he was surpassing them in skill and talent. 

Everything was going great until Obi-Wan came back.

With it came an ever present realization, one that he would never allow Qui-Gon to know he knew. He was still competing with Obi-Wan for their master's attention.

It was a battle where Anakin would prove that he was the far more worthy padawan. The one that Qui-Gon _wanted_ to train.

He glanced up at the deep lines cut into Qui-Gon's aged features. Worry, concern and laughter were inscribed over the leonine face. Anakin couldn't help but to study the sleep calmed face.

He knew he was going to die with only the memory of Qui-Gon's sad face of the last few weeks. Not the jovial, all knowing master that he so depended on. A part of him wished he had done more than scare the little boy.

__

_______________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part VII

"he is the chosen one."

It had taken so much of Qui-Gon's strength to utter those last words. There was none left as his eyes started to close.

"Yes, Master," came the obedient reply.

Qui-Gon had expected nothing less of his padawan learner. In those two little words, Obi-Wan had taken up his master's cause and Qui-Gon felt the warm glow of pride. Anakin's future was sealed with the zeal his apprentice would take in following an old fool's dying wish.

All he had to do was relax. The Force was calling to him, stronger than ever before.

His body felt heavy, like a dead weight that he was quickly pulling free of.

"No, Master, don't go," Obi-Wan begged as he brushed back the long gray hairs from Qui-Gon's forehead. "No."

Millions of voices called out to Qui-Gon. Some of them as old as the Jedi Order. It was a jumble and he couldn't make out any single voice. He sought for the familiarity of Jedi who had gone before. 

Master Jinn.

__

"No," Obi-Wan begged.

Master Jinn,_ echoed through the Force calling him into the swirls of eternity where all that had been resided._

"I can't let you die," Obi-Wan whispered, still cradling the dying man's head. 

Master Jinn. Don't let him–

__

"Obi-Wan, no!" Qui-Gon screamed the moment the young man had reinforced their dying bond. He knew instantly what was happening. He had felt the Force moving and guiding its healing energies into his body. He knew what it felt like. But not like this. 

To much energy.

"Don't fight," Obi-Wan begged as his features contorted into a mask of extreme concentration. "I'm not going to let you die."

The Jedi master could feel his weakening shields being torn apart. "No, my Padawan. You cannot. My injuries–"

"It's okay," Obi-Wan whispered.

Master Jinn_, the voices were growing fainter, _stop him.

__

Even as the healing energies poured into Qui-Gon's damaged body he still tried to push his well-meaning padawan away. Warmth filled him. "You cannot–"

Obi-Wan cradled his dying master, giving him all of his strength. 

A weak hand clutched the apprentice's arm. "No," Qui-Gon whispered. "You're life is not worth mine."

His mortal wound was enveloped in the healing energies of the Force. In Obi-Wan's life Force.

"Padawan, stop."

Obi-Wan's head slumped forward as he fought to maintain the energy flow. "I can't let you die."

Qui-Gon's world burned bright. Warmth made all of his nerve endings tingle as the wound, he felt, was being bound together in the light and energy of the Force. 

He studied Obi-Wan's pale blue eyes. There was pain in them. The young man wasn't wasting his energies on masking his suffering. The apprentice's sharp eyes became unfocused even as Qui-Gon felt his own strength returning.

"Stop," Qui-Gon begged. "I will live," he breathed.

Suddenly Obi-Wan's eyes focused into a look of horror as he stared at the master. Roughly he shoved Qui-Gon to the cold floor. 

"No!" Obi-Wan cried out as he crawled away from the barely conscious master.

Qui-Gon rolled to his side and weakly reached for the young man. "Obi-Wan."

Pausing, Obi-Wan gathered himself. "Help. I'll find help," he said almost absently as he struggled to his feet. He hesitated as he stood and wavered lightly. "I'll find help," he repeated.

After about two steps he sank to his knees. 

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon called out weakly.

"It's okay, Master." The words were soft reminding Qui-Gon of the thirteen year old boy Obi-Wan had once been. Those three words didn't sound as if they belonged to the first man to kill a Sith in a millennia.

Obi-Wan struggled to his feet. Another few steps before he finally collapsed.

Qui-Gon wanted to do something. Anything. He didn't even have the strength to reach out to Obi-Wan. He closed his eyes and drew on the Force. Diving into their bond he reached for his padawan. He could feel the young man's slide into a deep coma. _Warm tears flowed down his cheeks. "Obi-Wan, no," he wept. _

Darkness washed over him as the last of his borrowed strength gave way.


	23. Books of Wasted Time, Separations

__

The Book of Wasted Time

The low moan of the heavy durasteel door followed by a loud creaking sound startled Qui-Gon awake. He was on his feet even before he realized what was going on. As the door swung open he stepped between it and his padawan who was still curled up on the floor.

The tall Jedi master resisted the urge to stretch his aching muscles and joints. Never the less he readied himself. The door swung quickly open making him leap back a step. When he regained his composure, Qui-Gon's gaze settled on a silent figure dress entirely in black.

The figure remained motionless. A black hood obscured his face. A step behind stood two towering soldiers. The Jedi master immediately recognized them as two of the many men who had attacked them days earlier. He was certain they had a hand in the savage beating of his apprentice.

Qui-Gon prepared himself as he adjusted his stance to better protect Anakin.

"It's okay," the boy whispered resolutely as he struggled to his feet.

The hooded man twisted slightly as if studying Anakin's pained attempts to rise to his feet. A snap of gloved fingers and a slight motion of his hand sent the two large men into the small room.

The shorter of the two soldiers grabbed Anakin's arm. The boy cried out as he was ripped forward.

"Leave him alone!" Qui-Gon demanded as threw a fist at the guard. The taller, red headed man slammed Qui-Gon in the chest with a stun stick, sending him to his knees.

"Do not fight," the executioner growled. "It only wastes our time."

Anakin was dragged from the room. 

Qui-Gon glanced up. Breathing hurt from the attack but he seethed at the treatment of the boy. Leaping forward with all of his strength, he lunged for the executioner. 

The black clad figure turned sharply landing a gloved fist to Qui-Gon's solar plexus. The large man went down in a heap.

"Foolish old man," the executioner spat. "We do not have time for this. Drag him."

Anakin whimpered as he was roughly pulled down the hall behind the executioner. The Jedi master tried to go to his apprentice's aid but was held in place by the red haired soldier.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon groaned.

"I'm all right," Anakin said bravely as he straightened to walk even though the pain was obvious in his face. 

"You will die for your crimes, Jedi scum," the red haired man hissed in Qui-Gon's ear. He violently shoved the Jedi master forward. Qui-Gon lost his footing and crashed into the executioner. 

The shrouded figure spun with lightening quick reflexes he threw a powerful kick. Qui-Gon deftly avoided the devastating blow. The executioner's heel connected squarely with the red haired man's chin. The large man was sent flying backwards.

Anakin was instantly energized by the confusion. He threw himself back against the solidly built soldier that held him hostage. With all of his strength he kicked out. Both of his booted feet caught the executioner in the side with a sickening crack.

A cry of pain escaped the hooded man as he stumbled to the side. Regaining his composure, the executioner retaliated by grabbing Anakin's tunic and ripped him from the soldier's grip. 

Anakin cried out in pain as he was roughly twisted around.

Enraged Qui-Gon threw himself at Anakin's attacker. 

The executioner turned, bringing his hand toward the tall master. A powerful Force push sent Qui-Gon tumbling backward to the cold floor.

The still standing guard moved toward the fallen master.

A blue blade flashed through the air and the executioner drove it backward into the second soldier's gut. The man groaned before collapsing.

Qui-Gon stared up the lightsaber wielding executioner. 

"I told you not to fight," Obi-Wan snarled as he pulled the hood back. 

Deactivating his weapon he returned it to the belt clip and pulled out a small rounded device with a divot in the curved side. Roughly pushing Anakin's head to the side he pressed the object against the side of the youth's neck and with a static snap the collar fell off. 

Releasing Anakin to sink to the floor, he repeated the action freeing Qui-Gon. The elder Jedi rubbed the side of his neck where the collar had been deactivated. It stung but he was immediately refreshed by the power of the Force surging back into him. The reestablished connection between he and Anakin immediately alerted the master to his apprentice's distress. He immediately pushed past Obi-Wan to reach Anakin's side. "Padawan?"

"I'm okay, Master," the boy lied.

Obi-Wan gave the sight little attention as he tossed the small device onto the heap the two soldiers made. "They're expecting you at the execution chambers at any moment. We don't have anymore time to waste."

Qui-Gon absently noted the coarseness in his rescuer's voice. He immediately helped Anakin to his feet and then had to practically carry the boy in order to keep up with Obi-Wan's quick pace. Yet in his rush, Qui-Gon couldn't quite draw his attention from the black clad figure a few paces before him. "Thank you," he called out softly to the knight. Unsure Obi-Wan even heard him.

Without glancing back, Obi-Wan spoke with a cold, empty tone, "I do only as the council wishes."

________________________

__

The Book of Separations

Everything was moving so fast. Qui-Gon's joints were aching as well as being slowed by Anakin's weight he was struggling terribly to keep caught up with Obi-Wan's sharp turns through the labyrinthine building.

He was completely lost. He had not been conscious when he was taken to the cell. All he hoped was that Obi-Wan knew where he was going.

There was never any hesitation in the knight's step as he made each turn automatically. He never slowed but leapt over fallen soldiers lying in the middle of the hall.

The sight brought Qui-Gon to a complete stop. He just stood there and stared at the heap of men. A quick scan told the Jedi master that they were not dead, merely unconscious. The knowledge relieved him.

"We don't have time to waste," Obi-Wan growled as he turned back to see where he had lost the others too. The Jedi paused as he glanced around.

Qui-Gon noted the calmness in the knight. 

"They know," Obi-Wan said coolly. He took off running again.

"We will be out soon," Qui-Gon whispered to Anakin as they followed.

"Yes, my Master," Anakin half whimpered as he leaned into the tall master for support.

The boy was heavy in his arms but he could not expect him to run. Qui-Gon could sense the pain that accompanied every breath. Paying more attention to the boy, he crashed into Obi-Wan who had suddenly stopped.

Obi-Wan winced at having Qui-Gon's elbow smashed into his sore side. "Across the hall, there is a door. Go to it. Across the walkway there is a sunken stairwell. When you get to the bottom go straight. A ship is waiting."

Activating his lightsaber, Obi-Wan leapt out into the middle of the hall. Blaster bolts filled the narrow corridor but Obi-Wan easily deflected them creating a protective shield between the firing soldiers and the door to freedom. "Go!"

Qui-Gon hesitated.

"Go!" Obi-Wan barked a second time.

Immediately the Jedi master, half carrying his apprentice stepped into the corridor and headed for the door. Pausing briefly he cast out to make sure the other side was safe.

Bursting out onto an open veranda he bolted across the open area. At the top of the steps, he scooped Anakin into his large grip. The boy groaned painfully. After only a few steps, he was aware the Obi-Wan was immediately behind him.

Obi-Wan's gruff tone echoed in his ear. "The Council demands that you immediately meet with them upon your arrival at the temple. Do not hesitate. Get to the ship and leave."

"What about you?" Qui-Gon asked, his attention more focused on making each step than what was being said.

Blaster fire rained down the stairwell on them. Shots were blocked by the quick hum of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. "I have my own way out if we get separated. Go!"

At an opening in the stairwell, more soldiers were waiting. Obi-Wan threw himself between the master and apprentice and the firing soldiers. 

"I'm buying you time, now go!"

Qui-Gon reaffirmed his grip on Anakin and headed down the stairs. He could see green grass at the opening. 

Blaster fire and the hum of a lightsaber echoed in the background but Qui-Gon pushed it out of his thoughts as he raced for the bottom of the steps.

Hitting the grassy floor, he tightened his grip on Anakin and sprinted toward the heavy tree line at the edge of the grassy plain.

"Where's Obi-Wan?" Anakin managed to whisper as he glanced over Qui-Gon's shoulder at the looming fortress they were quickly leaving behind.

"We must get to the ship and return to Coruscant."

"But Obi-Wan–"

"He said to leave, he has another way out."

Blaster bolts tore up the ground around them. Qui-Gon dodged the exploding patches of grass and soil even as he quickened his pace. 

Relief flooded the elder Jedi the moment they passed into the rougher terrain of the wooded area. He kept repeating to himself that he should just keep going straight.

"Master!" Anakin screamed as cannon fire blew an ancient tree out of the ground sending it crashing down before the two Jedi. Qui-Gon tried to stop but the ground was damp and his boots slid. They crashed into the rough surface of the tree trunk and Anakin tumbled over the large tree trunk. 

"Anakin!" Qui-Gon roared in concern as he scrambled through a rain of blaster shots over the trunk. He threw himself over his padawan's crumpled form.

"I'm okay," Anakin breathed as he was immediately scooped up again.

"We've got to get to the ship," Qui-Gon pressed as he carried Anakin deeper into the foliage. 

Anakin winced in pain.

"Get you back to the temple," the master tried to reassure the boy. His concern for his apprentice mounting with each passing moment. Blaster fire thinned and sight of the transport loomed just beyond a group of trees. 

Reaching the ship, Qui-Gon palmed the trigger to the loading ramp. Before the ramp had completely lowered, he bounded up the steep slope, ducking as he climbed in. "We've got to go," the Jedi master said absently as he triggered the ramp to close. Setting Anakin down on the bench that passed for a sleep couch in the little common area he double checked to see if Anakin was all right. A cannon blast rocked the transport.

Qui-Gon took one of Anakin's hands and wrapped it around the bench's support wall. "Hold on," he said gently, "it might be rough getting out."

Anakin nodded obediently as the tall master straightened. "What about Obi-Wan?"

"He said he had his own way out that we should leave."

"But Master–"

Another blast shook the ship.

"We don't have time to worry about him," Qui-Gon said as he stormed toward the cockpit.


	24. Book of Leaps of Faith

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The Book of Leaps of Faith

The dank stench of old rot moved through the room as a heavy, durasteel door clattered open with hard push. Stale air from the hall breezed in as a bright light fell across the dark stone floor. From across the long, narrow room were two dingy windows where dull light barely entered.

"Get in there, you miserable retch!" A large man with long silver hair crudely tied back, snarled as he threw Obi-Wan into the middle of the room.

The black material concealed the knight against the poorly lit floor. He moved slowly, but made no attempt to turn and face the silver haired man.

"Got the intruder," the large man said with a deep, gravelly voice, "another one of those Jedi." He spit on the ground near where Obi-Wan remained crumpled. Twisting his neck around, the silver haired man's bones cracked and crunched.

Snapping his fingers, two heavily armed guards appeared in the doorway. "Colonel Makwest?"

The silver haired man never took his gaze from Obi-Wan. "Has the General's son been found yet?"

"No sir, the executioner has not."

Obi-Wan twisted slightly and grinned at Makwest.

"Is he unarmed?" Makwest asked.

"Yes."

The silver haired man scoffed. "I had heard Jedi were supposed to be hard to catch. I guess that was just a lie."

The two guards laughed cruelly as they targeted their weapons on the still figure in the middle of the floor.

"You are one dead man," Makwest spat as he rushed over to Obi-Wan and slammed him in the side of the face with a giant fist.

"Already knew that," Obi-Wan mumbled as he pushed himself up off the cold, wet stone.

"Where's the executioner at?" 

When the knight provided no answer, the Makwest swiftly kicked him in the side, flipping him to his other side. Obi-Wan groaned. 

"What did you do to the executioner?" 

Still no answer was supplied.

"Where is he?" The man did not wait for an answer. Instead he kicked Obi-Wan square in the chest rolling him back onto his stomach. The man reared his foot back for another devastating blow.

__

beep beep beep

"What is that?" Makwest barked as he pulled Obi-Wan up by his arm and searched through the heavy black cloak.

He pulled out a small transmitter device.

Obi-Wan spit blood at the man. "My ship is leaving," he smiled.

Faster than expected for a man his size, Makwest struck out, tangling the tussled ginger hair into a tight grip. Obi-Wan winced as his head was ripped back. "I am in no mood to play," Makwest gave a low growl. With his free hand, the gray haired man tightened his fingers around Obi-Wan's throat. "You Jedi are nothing. I had expected a real fight from you, pathetic creature." He tightened his grip closing off the knight's air. "You had better answer me," Makwest said calmly as powerful fingers dug into Obi-Wan's throat.

A squelched, choking sound was all Obi-Wan could manage. He struggled to pry the vice-like grip loose but no air was getting in.

Makwest waited patiently, drawing his grip a little tighter with every passing moment.

Obi-Wan's clawing at the crushing grip weakened. 

"Where is the executioner?" Makwest could feel the Jedi's body growing heavy in his grip.

The fight ceased as the knight's arms fell limply to his side. 

Makwest shook the lifeless form but garnered no response. "Jedi scum," he cursed, dropping Obi-Wan back to the cold floor. Turning to the two men, he ordered, "Incinerate the body."

Blaster rifles tightened in the grip of the two guards as they went to adjust the setting.

The hum and blue glow of a lightsaber cut the dimly lit room as Obi-Wan twisted suddenly, bounding to his feet. Before Makwest could respond the knight slashed driving the big man back. Thrusting he stabbed the blade into Makwest's thigh.

A pained scream tore out of the gray haired man as he stumbled back.

Obi-Wan dived behind Makwest as the other two men began firing indiscriminately, killing the colonel caught between them and the Jedi.

As the two men stared in stunned silence at what they had done, Obi-Wan sprinted to the nearest window. Blaster bolts suddenly erupted again and sent bits of stone flying everywhere. Ignoring the close proximity of the shots, the knight threw himself through the dingy glass.

For an instant, riding on the momentum of his leap, like a great black bird of prey, the executioner's cloak billowed like wings. 

He expected a short drop to the rich green planetary crust below but found only open air and a sheer drop off. Everything moved so fast as he fell past the gray walls of the massive fortress. A blur of brown as the jagged edges of the cliff face raced past him. The shards of falling glass sliced into the heavy cloak.

Consciously he channeled the Force to push him away from the outcroppings of rock that brushed too close. Still, he tried to focus as the black robes billowed and tangled around him. He tightened the Force around him like a shield. If he could only survive the fall all he would have to worry about was hitting the ground.

The cliff wall jutted out slightly and Obi-Wan smashed into it. Falling a little further he hit a soft, sandy slope and tumbled uncontrollably down it. At the bottom was a large stone base that he slammed into before being bounced into the murky green waters of a shallow stream.

The slow moving waters shifted the heavy black robes. Obi-Wan lay face down in the cold water.

The scream of a speeder bike that zipped along the riverbank grew steadily closer.

Suddenly the knight sprang up, water droplets splattering everywhere. He shrugged off the waterlogged black cloak and trudged toward the bank. Quickly he attempted to dive for cover in the heavy foliage but was spotted by the rider.

Absently the Jedi knight hoped that Qui-Gon and Anakin had long since safely fled the atmosphere and were on their way back to Coruscant. Smiling to himself, he wondered how his former master was going to explain his absence. Not that it really mattered. He would be foolish if he thought the Council actually expected him to return to the temple. It was in their eyes, they knew, even before he did.

A speeder bike passed close forcing Obi-Wan to duck into the thick fern-like vegetation. There was so much pain accompanying even the simplest moves he couldn't quite pinpoint the individual injuries. 

The whining of the speeder bike grew louder.

Gently he rubbed his throat. It still felt as if Makwest was still crushing it.

Suddenly the source of the sound appeared zipping so close that it nearly took Obi-Wan's head off before he dived for cover. The engine's noise faded as it sped away. After a moment though, the noise gradually grew louder.

Remaining crouched in the heavy growth Obi-Wan waited until the bike skimmed close a second time. He leapt up and activated his lightsaber. The blue blade dissected the bike's belly as it thundered past. It did nothing to hinder the machine as the driver brought it around for another run. This time sending a volley of blaster bolts in the knight's direction.

Again Obi-Wan dived into the dirt until the bike had moved past.

Hidden under the cover of fern leaves, he leaned back against a thick tree trunk. Gently he pressed his arm against his severely aching side. Too many broken ribs to worry about counting at the moment. He pushed the pain back. If it overcame him he would never escape.

Assuming that was the plan.

He quickly became aware that a second speeder bike had joined the fray. The second bike swooped close laying a track of blaster bolts around the knight. Waiting until the first bike swooped his way, the knight leapt up, grabbing the jagged underbelly of the bike.

The driver caught sight of the hitchhiker and took the bike on a wild ride through the densely packed trees. Obi-Wan tightened his grip even as the torn metal painfully dug into his hands. Tree branches clutched and snagged at his soaking clothing. The driver desperately skimmed dangerously close to the wide trunks of the trees.

A large, low lying branch clipped the Jedi and he nearly lost his hold. 

Cannon fire exploded around the careening speeder bike. 

Obi-Wan grabbed the man by the leg with blood slicked hands and unseated him. 

Pulling himself up onto the bike he completely ripped the pilot free and tossed him over the edge. 

The suddenly released controls caused the bike to fly uncontrollably through the vegetation. 

Obi-Wan threw himself into the seat and grabbed the controls. The speeder bike roared to life and he directed it out of the path of a large tree.

Almost immediately the second speeder bike rider came roaring after him, firing from the mounted blaster rifle. 

Sweeping the damaged air bike from side to side, Obi-Wan missed the explosive cannon fire that chased after him. 

All he had to do was get as far as away from the prison as possible.

That was his first goal. Then he would worry about what he would do next.

Obi-Wan glanced back at his pursuer even as his vehicle began to sputter from a well landed blaster bolt.

The control panel went red. 

The speeder bike was overheating as the warnings became more intense. Obi-Wan pushed the bike well beyond its limits. At the last possible moment he threw himself off.

The speeder bike exploded in a fury of light and shrapnel.


	25. Books of Temple Ghosts 8, Finding Grace

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The Book of Temple Ghosts Part VIII

The sweet smell of tuka flowers tickled Bant's senses. She buried her face in the multicolored buds. Somehow it made the walk easier. 

Not that it was ever supposed to be easy. 

Cradling the tuka flower bouquet in her arms on her walk through the healing center, her sometimes home away from home, took her down a quiet hall. One she had avoided through most of her healer training.

Two doors from the end of the hall, she stopped. From where she stood, the Coruscant skyline played across a small window at the end of the hall. Evening was rolling slowly across the great temple.

Another day gone. 

For all it mattered, it might as well have been a thousand days gone. 

There had been a strange silence in the temple for nearly two months. Since the revelation of the Sith's return. Since the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennium fell into a deep coma. 

She turned to face back into the open door she stood in front off.

Again she buried her face in rainbow of colors gently held in her arms. Stretching slightly, the healer apprentice leaned forward and glanced into the room. 

Casting out on the Force she further checked the small room without approaching it.

Naturally it would be empty. At this point she had come to expect the room to be empty. A part of her was glad there was no one there. No one she had to face. No one to exchange condolences with.

No one.

She had grown used to being the only one there. The only one who cared to show up at least once day, more if she could.

It was getting harder with every passing day, she admitted to herself.

She could not blame anyone for not coming as often as they should. Two months was a long time and Dirad had explained to her more times than she wanted to hear that it was unlikely Obi-Wan would ever wake from his coma, at least not after all that time.

Of course, the Master healer couldn't quite explain why her friend was in a coma in the first place.

Still, Bant knew she could not just avoid ever showing up again. Her friend deserved more than to be abandoned for dead when he was still clinging to life, no matter how fragile it had become.

Silently she pulled a data pad from the little box next to the door. She scanned the list of visitors. It recorded her early morning visit. The visit at her lunch break and it would record her visit now. She saw Garen's name listed not long after she had left at lunch. A little smile. At least he had kept his promise to visit before he left for the Modell sector. Reeft had stopped two days earlier before leaving on a mission as well. She was happy to see Master Yoda's daily sojourn. At least the little green master was constant. There were other names, but the distance between visits was becoming farther and fewer. Soon it would just be her and Yoda.

She scanned for Qui-Gon's name and found it late one evening three days ago. It had been two days since his visit before that.

Bant closed her eyes and stilled her mind. She had just seen the Jedi master with the boy he had brought from Tatooine in the meditating gardens. He was trying to teach the boy to center himself. Anakin, she thought his name was, was twitching and fidgeting like he had some sort of nervous condition. She had never seen a nine year old wiggle so much.

Hadn't the Council refused to allow him to be trained?

Roughly dropping the data pad back into the box she slowly entered the room. It looked like any other medical bay in the healing center. It was small and secluded. A room designed not to support many visitors because they knew none would come. Not this far down the hall. 

It was a lost cause after this point.

"I brought flowers to brighten up the room," Bant said with false joy. "It's rather dull," she whispered as the sadness crept back into her voice. Her line of vision remained completely focused on the little table next to the sleep couch. A plain, clear vase sat back against the wall. She made sure to fill it with fresh flowers as often as possible. "Well, I'm not exactly off the clock yet," she began as she pulled the chair a little closer to the head of the bed. "But things were slow, so Master Dirad said I could come back and visit." Gently she adjusted the blankets that covered the still form. It was getting harder every day to look at the peaceful expression of sleep on Obi-Wan's face. 

An uncontrolled sense of panic made her want to grab his shoulders and shake him until he woke up. Carefully she reached up to brush her salmon colored fingers through the dull ginger hair. The spikes had grown out and feathered crudely back. "Wake up," she demanded softly. "Wake up. You've slept enough."

Biting back a sob she sank to the chair that was always next to the bed. 

Another part of her, one she hated, wished his body would just give out. At least then he could rejoin the Force and be free.

Bant mentally chastised herself for even allowing that terrible thought to enter her mind. He would get better, she just had to be patient. 

A gasp escaped her as she froze.

Cloudy, pale blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Obi-Wan?"

The empty stare remained fixated on the ceiling as Bant held her breath waiting for a response she feared would never come. 

"Obi-Wan?" she whispered as she gently brushed her fingers though the thick ginger hair. Then she lightly pressed her hand against the cool forehead. Ever so carefully she reached out through the Force. Her lips trembled as she fought back tears. Brushing her fingers over Obi-Wan's open eyes she closed them. Opening her mouth to say something she could only manage sobs as she fell against the edge of the sleep couch. 

She didn't care about the sobs. There were never enough. 

"Where am I?"

Immediately Bant sat up. Through tear rimmed vision she could see the pale blue eyes staring at the ceiling. Blinking her eyes clear she leaned forward.

"Where am I?"

A smile danced on her lips as she reached out and desperately hugged her friend. "You're in the temple," she cried out happily.

"No," Obi-Wan groaned as his eyes slowly focused on the grinning healer wrapped around his chest. "I was on Naboo."

Bant sat up and happily brushed her fingers through his hair. Those blue eyes, those blue eyes were all she could focus on. A part of her never thought she would see them again. Even in her joy, she was aware of how slowly his eyes focused on her. "I've got to get Master Dirad," she told him as she started to pull away.

Instantly her arm was caught in a weak grip. "How did I get here?" Obi-Wan whispered as he tried to sit up. "I was on Naboo."

"They brought you back to the temple." Bant gently pressed his head back to the pillow. "Take it easy."

"Where am I?"

"You're in the temple," she repeated as she patted his shoulder. "You've been in a coma." The healer in her took over as she pressed her hand to his cool forehead. "You really hurt yourself," she whispered softly.

"The temple was destroyed," Obi-Wan mumbled not really paying Bant much attention. Then slowly, he tilted his head and for a time just studied her, a deep look of sadness washed over his pale feature. "Coma?"

"For almost two months. Since the battle of Naboo."

He just shook his head and closed his eyes. "That's wrong."

Bant tried to pull free to find Dirad but Obi-Wan's grip of her arm tightened slightly. She could sense panic.

"My master's dead."

It took many calming techniques to keep her tone steady. "No he's not." 

Confusion wrapped itself around his eyes as he turned slightly to face the wall. "The Sith killed him."

"You saved him," the healer apprentice said softly as she reached out and tugged on his padawan braid to make him face her. "You just woke up from a coma. You're senses are a little dull. That's all." She gave him a warm smile. "Master Jinn is very much alive. Let me go get Dirad and they'll call for him." Anger danced at the edge of her senses. Qui-Gon should already have known Obi-Wan was awake. 

"I saw him die," Obi-Wan mumbled before turning back to stare at the ceiling. "I was there."

"You saved him. Don't you remember?"

"No," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He died. I saw the funeral pyre." Disused muscles moved sluggishly as he tried to draw himself up into a fetal position. The effort took more strength than he had. "Told me to train Anakin," he mumbled half to himself. "Yoda didn't agree even though the Council did."

Bant frowned. "I'm pretty sure Master Jinn is going to train that boy. I think he really wants too." He already was, with the Council's approval or not.

Obi-Wan struggled again but failed to draw himself up into a fetal position. He tugged aimlessly at the blankets as if he were cold. "I failed him," came a soft murmur.

"Never," Bant said firmly as she got up and retrieved another blanket.

"I lost Anakin."

"You didn't lose him." She wrapped the heavy blanket around her friend's shivering form. "He's running around the temple annoying everyone." She quietly studied the dull eyes that stared blankly out at her.

"No," Obi-Wan groaned softly as he buried his face against the fuzzy blanket. 

"You were dreaming," Bant told him as she gently rubbed his back. "There's been lots of reports of dreams from people who woke up from comas. You're no different. It was just your brain trying to deal with the fact you really hurt yourself." A tinge of anger reflected in her voice, "You almost killed yourself."

"There was a desert."

"No, Obi-Wan," she whispered. "You've been in the temple since three days after the battle with the Sith." Bant frowned, but then searched the blankets for a cool hand. There was no strength in a grip, even as she gently squeezed his callused hand. "You're just remembering being stranded on Tatooine."

"No," came the standard reply.

"You were dreaming."

Confusion remained. "Dreaming?"

Bant smiled gently. "Yes."

"But it felt so real. I was all alone."

"You were never alone."

"Dreaming," Obi-Wan whispered dully. His empty gaze met his friend's. He gave her a weak smile and patted the white bedding gently. "Temple," he said as if reassuring himself.

"You're safe at home."

"The temple is safe."

"Yes." Bant squeezed his hand gently. "Everyone who cares for you is here."

A deep frown crossed Obi-Wan's tired features. "The temple's gone, the Jedi are gone." There was a child-like quality in how he expressed those words, the guilt heavy in him for a crime he had not committed.

Bant chose not to say anything. She could sense the distress in her friend. The disorientation he was suffering. It was common, at least that was what her studies had told her. She closed her eyes for a moment and centered, she couldn't leave Obi-Wan, not even to run down the hall and tell someone. Casting out on the Force she found the Master Healer. "Master Dirad's coming," she told him. "You're going to be all right."

_____________________

__

The Book of Finding Grace

A swift hit of a blaster rifle to his lower back sent Obi-Wan to his knees.

"Get up," a coarse voice growled.

Obi-Wan was violently yanked to his feet and shoved forward. Heavy chains dug into his bound wrists before him. His cut up palms from the speeder bike's jagged underbelly were incredibly painful but did nothing to dull the sharp pain in his side. It hurt to breathe at least what he could through strangled gasps. He had the urge to reach up and check the bruising flesh around his throat. At the moment, he was more concerned about putting one foot in front of each other. The trek over the rough terrain made him stumble and was made more difficult by the blaster muzzles jammed into his back. Stifling a cry as he glanced around through blood blurred eyes at the three large soldiers that held him prisoner. 

His vision refused to clear even as he focused on the sergeant who walked a few paces ahead of the little procession. The sergeant crudely held Obi-Wan's lightsaber, studying it as he twisted the silver and black cylinder in his hands.

Carefully Obi-Wan reached out with his bound hands to call the weapon to him. 

Nothing happened.

With a sense of surprise he realized that the tight band of a Force dampening collar was fitted around his neck. That and coupled with the bruises and swelling caused by his little encounter with Makwest was what was choking him.

A loud, rude laugh echoed from his edge of his vision.

"Thought you were going to escape, Jedi scum?" The large soldier to his right slammed the butt of his blaster rifle into his side again sending him tumbling to his knees. Immediately he was ripped off the grassy ground by ungentle hands that violently shoved him forward.

Obi-Wan tasted blood.

"You will die for your crimes," another soldier spat.

The Jedi knight was dragged over the rough terrain toward a small clearing. Speeder bikes zipped past, patrolling the area. Foot solders guarded the edges of the clearing. In the center, under the bright sunlight stood a man with a machete, violently hacking off branches and quickly smoothing a young tree into a long pole.

The side of the young man's face was bruised black, he looked up and met Obi-Wan's steady gaze.

The knight stared dazedly at the clearing. A fist crashed between his shoulder blades sending him to the ground. 

"Get up!" 

Obi-Wan remained slumped where he fell.

"Get up!" a soldier prodded with his rifle butt.

Still the knight remained motionless. His wet clothing was gripped in the soldier's hands and he was dragged off the ground and carried over to where the man working on the long pole stood. They let go and he fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Captain Soloban," the sergeant saluted then handed the lightsaber off to the young man preparing the pole.

Obi-Wan stared up at Soloban. 

The young man had a deep purple bruise covering most of the left side of his face. He tightened his grip around the lightsaber hilt as he slowly approached the kneeling knight. Soloban's expression hardened when he reached out and fingered the damp, torn material of the of the executioner's tunic that Obi-Wan wore. "I just had that made special for putting Jedi to death." The captain studied the silver cylinder in his hand. "You should have killed me when you had the chance." With the lightsaber hilt, Soloban slammed the knight in the side of the head.

The force of the impact sent Obi-Wan crashing to the thick green grass. After a moment he pushed himself into a kneeling position. "Does that make you feel better?" he taunted with a hoarse voice as he spit blood into the thick, grassy carpet beneath him.

Ignoring the question, Soloban said, "You have been condemned to immediate death."

Obi-Wan straightened. His vision was filled with flashing stars. "Don't I get a trial?"

Laughter echoed all around him as Soloban smashed him again with the lightsaber hilt.

The knight hit the lawn again. His head was thundering and the spots flashed brightly blotting out Soloban's cruel stare. Slowly pushing himself back up into a meditative stance, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. His brain had gone to mush and he was struggling to find his calm center. The pain made it elusive.

It can't possibly hurt any worse, the knight thought. The sharp pain in his side with every breath told him that even if he could get away from the soldiers, he unlikely would live long enough to get off the planet.

His mind finally stilled, blocking out the soldiers around him who waited for his death to entertain them.

The transport was gone. 

Qui-Gon and Anakin were gone. 

At least his final mission wasn't a complete failure. 

This was how it was supposed to be.

A hand grabbed the ginger braid and ripped Obi-Wan backward violently yanking him out of the fought for meditative state. The knight struggled slightly but boot kicks took his legs out from underneath him, dropping him again to his knees on the lush grassy carpet.

"Ready to die, this one is!" One of the soldiers bellowed.

Obi-Wan's head was jerked back by the braid. The bright white light of the Tarsian sun shined down on him or maybe he was still seeing stars. The pain still reverberated through his head.

Slowly Obi-Wan straightened into a meditative stance. Pulling his braided hair free of the tight grip he tilted his head down again. Beyond the whine of the speeder bikes there was the gentle rustling of leaves. The joyful songs of an avian population played at the edge of his hearing. Even the burble of the murky stream could still be heard clearly.

It reminded him of the meditation gardens.

__

There is no death, there is only the Force.

The words flowed freely through his muddled mind as part of a mantra he had known all his life.

In the back of his thoughts, he knew wasn't as ready as he thought he would be when the time came.

He was scared.

Soloban gripped the blood smeared hilt of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. He walked slowly around to the side of the knight. "For the murder of three men, the injury of a dozen more of the Tarsian Guard and the attack on me you are sentenced to death by decapitation. Your head will be placed on the pike and displayed for all to see as a warning to anyone who would try to go against the General."

The strangest thoughts popped into Obi-Wan's head. He suddenly wondered what funeral rights the Tarsian's had. Did they bury their dead? Burn them? What would they do to a condemned criminal? 

He would be dead and it wouldn't matter. 

So why was the thought worrying him? 

Were they going to just leave his headless body to rot in the clearing?

The sergeant grabbed hold of the braid and jerked Obi-Wan's head back and studied the knight's bloodied face. "The other one who negotiated the treaty against your father," he said to the Captain. "The apprentice."

"Not anymore," Obi-Wan said calmly as the sergeant dropped a heavily booted foot between his bruised shoulder blades, forcing the knight to bow a final time.

Breathing slowly he drew strength from the knowledge that soon he would be one with the Force. 

It would all be over soon.

No more pain.

__

There is no death, there is only the Force. 

He accepted the grace that the mantra provided. It offered him the strength to take his impending death calmly. He didn't know which pained breath would be his last, but he would saver each one.

Soloban clumsily activated the lightsaber. It hummed as he twisted the weapon around in his grip. "How about this," he laughed, "I'm taking a Jedi's head with his own weapon." He drew the glowing blue blade back over his head. 

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath.

A cool breeze ruffled the distant leaves.

So like the meditating garden.

A moment of hesitation then Captain Soloban swiftly brought the saber down with deadly intent.


	26. Books of Small Thoughts, Falling From Gr...

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The Book of Small Thoughts

"I do not believe you are being fair to the child," Master Na'tho said as he walked slowly along side Yoda. 

"Hmm, same concerns as before," the little master replied as he hobbled through the vast temple corridor. "Remember? About young Obi-Wan they once were."

"You are correct." Na'tho entwined his fingers, studying them as he walked. "I still do not approve of you orchestrating a master/padawan relationship."

"Wrong, was I?"

Na'tho frowned. 

"Excellent team they made. Worked with no one else it would have. Thrived, young Obi-Wan did under Qui-Gon's training." Yoda paused with a sad look in his big eyes. "Unfortunate, how it ended. Qui-Gon's vision became clouded." The ancient master hobbled along silently for a while. He chose to be patient and allow Na'tho to voice his opinions, which the tall master never had a problem doing.

After a distance of walking silently, Na'tho spoke up again, "I still disagree with you. Bali is not a pawn. He is a child."

"Protective of him, are you?"

"I am protective of all my children," Na'tho gently warned.

An admirable quality, Yoda noted. Na'tho's opinions were held in high regard for he saw the potential in his young charges that no one else could see. Over the last hundred years, Yoda had often sought the counsel of the other man. 

"A good master, the boy needs," Yoda pressed.

"I agree with you," the soft spoken master replied. "But we both know Bali is not a padawan to be pushed on anyone. Even working as hard as he is, he is still falling behind the other children in his group. Whatever Jedi takes the boy on must be patient and understanding with him."

"Most masters are."

"Not to the degree Bali might need. He is a very hard working child. He will fight every step of the way to become a Jedi. I can sense it in him. He just does not excel in group training."

"Understand, I do." Yoda stared ahead at an open balcony. Beyond the constant amber glow of the city planet at night, the stars shined dully in the curtain of black. "Understanding master, he needs."

"But is Obi-Wan the right choice? Will he be as attentive as the boy needs?" Na'tho asked plaintively as he stopped and stared down at the little master. His voice was low as if protecting it from prying ears, "You did a great disservice by allowing Qui-Gon to bring that slave boy into the temple."

"Refused, we could not," Yoda said slowly. Conversations with Na'tho always turned back to the unknown boy. The ancient one could not blame the initiate master, though. Na'tho had a hand in training many of the Jedi. Anakin Skywalker was unknown to him. "Training, Qui-Gon had begun. Great danger lie in sending him away." Yoda shook his head sadly. "Choice we had not."

"You endanger us all by that decision."

Yoda drew his ears back in irritation. "Discuss young Skywalker no more, I will. Speak now of Bali."

Na'tho straightened, but nodded calmly, focusing on the matter at hand. "What shall we do when Obi-Wan refuses? Or is incapable? Master, did you ever consider that? You allowed the Council to send him on a mission that he is not likely to come back from. You very well have made other potential masters leery of the child. Your meddling is dangerous."

"A bond, there is. Deny it, Obi-Wan cannot."

"You're little green fingers have been stirring the pot, I suspect."

Yoda narrowed his gaze. "I did not. Suited they are. Organized chance meetings, all I did."

Na'tho exchanged a curious look with the ancient master. "So you are the reason my little Bali has often disappeared lately."

Yoda nodded. "Good for him the boy would be. Much work Bali is. Singular attention, Bali needs to thrive. A mission to focus on." Yoda stopped and stared up at Na'tho again. This time sadness entered the little master's eyes. "Know as I do, no master will take the boy if he waits much longer."

"He will be too far behind," Na'tho agreed, "and I cannot spend enough time working with him to keep him caught up." The initiate supervisor studied Yoda for a moment, then a gentle smile leapt to the taller man's face. "You must visit during saber practice," he advised, "but I fear that what you would see would only lend to increasing your ego."

"Ego, I have not," Yoda said in mock hurt. "Unwilling you are, to see that I am always right." The little master gave a mischievous grin. "Concern yourself with the children. Bali, take care of, I will." The green skinned master abandoned Na'tho at the entrance to the initiate dorms.

The little master quietly journeyed through the temple. Unnoticed, Yoda entered into the meditating gardens. After a short walk along the stone path he took out over the grass and ducked between ancient trees. 

His journey ended under a twisted yawen tree. "Late it is, young one."

Bali looked up from where he sat in a cradle created by the tree's gnarled roots. His bright green eyes shown an edge of weariness as he rubbed them clear. The small figure was dress in a warm gray sleep tunic and was curled up under his cloak. Pale toes stuck out from beneath the brown material. 

"Sleep time, it is for initiates," Yoda said softly as he studied the little boy. The initiate leaned heavily against mottled brown trunk. 

"Couldn't sleep," Bali said softly, but didn't look up at the small master. 

In the distance, the steady sound of a waterfall, drifted through the massive garden.

Yoda sat down on some roots next to him. "Concerned, Master Na'tho will be," he stated but did not admonish the boy.

"I'm sorry." Bali stared across at the little master before dropping his eyes to the ground. "I shouldn't have wandered off."

"Hmm." 

Bali frowned.

A soft breeze gently shifted the leaves.

"Nightmare?" The little master asked.

Bali nodded obviously shaken up by whatever he had seen.

"Describe you will, how you feel."

The little boy stared unhappily at his bare feet. "I don't know. I think I'm scared."

Yoda twisted slightly to focus on the boy. 

Bali crossed his arms defensively across his chest. "Like I'm being chased. I'm running but I can't get away."

"Hmmm." Yoda leaned heavily against his gimer stick.

"I woke everyone up," Bali said sadly. "They told me to leave." He tugged on his cloak, attempting to cover his cold feet. Big, bright green eyes fell to Yoda, silently pleading for help. "You said you would teach me to better shield my thoughts." 

Yoda frowned as he reached out and patted Bali's shoulder. 

"In a few days, I will," Yoda answered gently as the boy yawned tiredly.

"I'm scared."

"Do not be."

Bali gave a weak smile, then drew his knees to his chest and buried his face against his folded arms. "There is no death, there is only the Force," he whispered.

_________________

__

The Book of Falling From Grace

The clearest thought in Obi-Wan's muddled brain was of fear. It wasn't his own. He had made peace with his life. 

But the fear remained.

Child-like, burdened with too many emotions.

He exhaled with the familiar hum of his weapon. It didn't go unnoticed that it was the weapon that was going to kill him.

Even with the white band that cut him off from the Force and was slowly closing off his airway he could still sense Soloban's movement. The slight creak in the heavily starched uniform as Soloban brought the weapon back.

Fear was a powerful emotion, even when it was innocent.

Innocent?

It radiated through his mind. He tried to construct mental barriers to close off the emotion. His dazed mind was ineffective against the attack.

Fear, laced with concern.

Worry.

"No!" Obi-Wan screamed. His damaged throat left his voice little more than a pained squeak. He jerked back just as the glowing blue blade crashed down slicing deep into the sod.

Anger reddened Soloban's face as he brought the weapon back again to strike a fatal blow.

Obi-Wan toppled backward, not possessing the strength to leap away.

"Die!" Soloban screamed as he swept the saber forward.

The Jedi twisted out of the way.

Cannon fire erupted in the middle of the circle. Armed soldiers scattered as the small Corellian runner shot out of the trees.

A flash of white light as Soloban was blown backward in an explosion of sod. 

The runner twisted gracefully in the sky, firing on the fleeing men. Speeder bikes erupted into flames under the dense cannon fire.

Obi-Wan's gashed up fingers struggled with the collar that had grown too tight over the last hour. He fought for breath as his fingers dug into the bruised flesh of his neck. Through spotted vision, he spied his lightsaber lying just beyond the motionless Soloban's reach.

Crawling across the rough ground, Obi-Wan snatched up his weapon. The runner screamed over head firing madly at the remaining soldiers. Clutching the activated lightsaber, he twisted it in his bound hands. Drawing his head back, he turned the glowing blue blade and brought it to bear against the tight collar. The sudden static snap of the collar deactivating jolted him backwards.

The runner came around and hovered above the fallen knight. 

There were so many spots obscuring his vision that the knight could barely make out the opening ramp. 

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon Jinn called out as he stepped out to the end of the ramp.

Clumsily deactivating the saber, he started to his feet.

"Jedi, scum!" Captain Soloban wailed as he threw himself at Obi-Wan. Air exploded from the knight's lungs as he was crushed to the ground. He twisted, turning Soloban onto his back, but the captain quickly kicked out and had Obi-Wan pinned again. 

Obi-Wan could see the dark shape of the runner getting larger.

Smaller Tarsian fighters screamed past, firing at the runner.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon yelled as he pitched a nylon line out of the ship's opening. 

Soloban tried to pin Obi-Wan with one arm while he blindly reached for the fallen machete.

Using the man's instability, Obi-Wan kicked Soloban away. He stumbled to his feet. The white line dangling just above the ground had his fuzzy attention.

The runner started to pull away as the fighters began a second run. 

He reached clumsily with his bound wrists, but the cord pulled away. He tripped on the rough terrain and fell. 

"Come on!" Qui-Gon barked as he reached out his hand. 

Obi-Wan just wrapped the Force around himself, attempting to draw a little more strength.

The runner jerked as two fighters opened up their cannons on the small ship. 

The knight threw himself at the white nylon line as the ship took off. His feet scraped against the ground momentarily. Just as the pull of the ship pulled him free of the rough sod something crashed into him making him twist in the line. Soloban had caught the knight and was pulling him back down the line. His still bleeding hands only made the nylon slick and Soloban's job easier. 

Qui-Gon leaned over the open ramp to stare at the two figures tangled up. He quickly grabbed the line and started to pull it back in. For every arm length he brought up, Obi-Wan slid farther down. 

Soloban's weight was too much for him. 

Cannon fire rocked the runner, threatening to destroy it with the next blast.

The Jedi master leaned down on the ramp and reached for Obi-Wan's bound hands. He stretched a little further but the younger man slipped just out of his reach.

Obi-Wan stared up into the older man's deep eyes. His voice was drowned out by the engines and by the crack of cannon fire. "Your lives are not worth mine."

"No!" Qui-Gon roared and threw himself forward the instant Obi-Wan let go of the line. His fingers barely grazed the heavy chain that bound the younger man's wrists.

Soloban shrieked, his arms flailed as he fell backward. 

Qui-Gon tossed the line back out, and bringing the Force to bear on it, he whipped it toward the falling knight. Reaching out with the invisible hand of the Force, the line twisted around the knight's bound wrists getting caught up in the chains.

Slowly the line was drawn back into the ship and Obi-Wan was pulled to the top. Qui-Gon roughly reached over the edge of the ramp and grabbed him by his bound wrists and pulled the knight into the ship.

Alarms sounded as the runner took another blast. "Now the ship is damaged," Qui-Gon growled quickly glancing angrily away from the knight and he roughly hit the ramp controls. The runner bucked as the master unsteadily made his way to the cockpit. 

Obi-Wan just laid where Qui-Gon had tossed him. A low, pained groan escaped. He knew he was going to have to do something. If he continued to lay there he wouldn't be able to get up. 

The transport bucked and rocked as explosions shook the hull. The knight was jarred and rolled onto his side.

Now Qui-Gon and Anakin's lives were in danger because of him. This was not completing his final mission.

Pulling on the remains of his strength, he slowly climbed to his feet, but was heavily reliant on the support the walls provided to get him to the cockpit.

Qui-Gon was at the controls, barely dodging the attempts to knock them out of the sky. To Obi-Wan's surprise, Anakin was slumped over in the pilot's seat.

Quickly, he shoved the youth out of the seat and into Qui-Gon's lap as he grabbed the controls. "You can't help him up here, get back there," he growled as he threw the ship into evasive maneuvers.

Without a word, Qui-Gon scooped up the unconscious padawan. The master's concerned look flitted from the boy, turning dark at the knight at the controls. "He wouldn't have been further injured if we didn't have to come back for you." The master hesitated, "What kind of game are you playing?"

Cannon fire exploded too close for comfort.

"Nobody told you to wait," Obi-Wan snapped. "You defied my orders further endangering yourself and the boy."

There was anger fluttering through his signature. He couldn't quite squash it. He sensed that Qui-Gon felt it. 

Good.

"Seems I follow orders as well as you do," Qui-Gon retorted.

Sealing his shields up to prevent any attempt by the master to probe his thoughts, Obi-Wan blocked Qui-Gon out and focused on the battle to break free of the planet.

Qui-Gon frowned sadly and carried Anakin out of the small compartment.


	27. Book of Tense Moments

__

The Book of Tense Moments

For the hundredth time, Obi-Wan checked the controls. The runner had suffered serious damage but it would at least be able to limp back to Coruscant. Of course, he was certain that the city planet's air traffic control would have to tractor the ship in for a safe landing.

He wouldn't further risk the safety of his passengers by trying to manually land.

He had promised the Council to return them safely. He would not fail in that.

Still, none of this would be a concern if that fool old man had returned to Coruscant like he was ordered.

Slowly, Obi-Wan's gaze swept the panel again. Everything was maintaining.

Time to take care of himself.

Slowly Obi-Wan returned his attention to his bound wrists in his lap. Casting out with the Force, he searched the crude manacles for the locking device. Mentally focusing his concentration on moving through the lock. For a moment he was able to block out some of the pain that was really catching up with him.

A soft chunking sound as the lock opened and the chains loosened their grip. Sighing, the knight carefully peeled the metal back from his torn and raw wrists. 

Roughly he pulled at the still damp material of the executioner's uniform. It felt awful and the chill wasn't helping him either. Drawing every bit of strength he still possessed the knight pushed himself out of the pilot's chair. He wobbled unsteadily and had to reach out to the bulkhead for support. 

The flashing white spots marred his vision as weakness went to his legs. He sank back to the chair. A protective hand went to his aching side. Busted ribs shifted under the pressure. He noted a gash in his left thigh. Must have taken that from a tree in the speeder bike escape. A pained chuckle escaped him. He didn't really escape. Just prolonged his capture.

Again the knight pushed himself to his feet. Leaning heavily on every supported object in the small room, he made the few steps to the cockpit door. His hand trembled as he reached up and unlocked the door allowing it to swish open.

The first thing to assault his spotty vision was Qui-Gon kneeling next to the bench Anakin was curled up on. Pushing any hint of pain back, the knight walked stiffly into the small storage and common area.

Qui-Gon looked up. Weariness had embedded itself in his leonine features. Tired eyes studied the knight for a moment then turned back to focus on the unconscious boy. 

Ignoring the scene, Obi-Wan walked to a storage locker near the bench. Anakin looked so peaceful wrapped in a heavy blanket under the watchful eye of his master. The image irked the knight. He noted his trembling hand and had to focus to steady it. 

In the locker he found a clean change of clothing, the familiar Jedi tunics and his carefully folded cloak. A little smile as he clutched the material to his chest and closed the locker. Not allowing himself the mistake of glancing back at the other two, he made sure to keep his back to them as he turned and stiffly walked to the small refresher unit nestled in the back.

*****

Qui-Gon glanced up a second time at the knight. 

Obi-Wan's back was to him. The older man knew that his former apprentice would not do him the honor of glancing back.

His attention fell back to Anakin who groaned softly and drifted back into a pained sleep. He was a good boy, the old master thought as he gently brushed his fingers through Anakin's short almost curly hair.

The door to the small refresher unit closed. 

The venerable Jedi master let out a loud sigh. He was so tired. So foolish. How had allowed he and his apprentice to walk into such an obvious trap? No, he knew it would do him no good to berate himself. It was the past and he could do nothing to change it. All he could do was learn from his mistake so he would not make it in the future.

His anger had been allowed to cloud his thoughts. 

This would be simply remedied. He would ask of the Council–after Anakin had healed–to allow them to go on sabbatical. They certainly would not deny them that. He would tell the Council that it was needed to regain their focus. 

Yes, that was it.

Anything to stay away from the temple.

"Master?" Anakin whispered.

"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon answered, leaning in slightly. 

The boy's eyes fluttered slightly. "Master? Did we get away?"

"We'll be back at the temple in about fourteen hours." The older man couldn't help the smile that threatened at the sense of relief he found in the boy. 

"Did Obi-Wan make it?" Anakin asked innocently, his voice never above a soft whisper. "We couldn't leave him behind."

It took a moment to find his center before Qui-Gon spoke again. "He made it." _We almost didn't thanks to him._

"Master," Anakin softly admonished. 

The older man frowned. "I am sorry. You are right. Never leave a Jedi behind."

__

It would have been wrong to leave him behind, Master. Anakin whispered in Qui-Gon's thoughts. The boy's eyes slowly closed again.

The venerable master felt the boy slip into unconsciousness. 

"We'll be home soon," Qui-Gon answered, adjusting the blanket slightly. His thoughts drifted back to that fearless, knowing look in Obi-Wan's eyes the moment before he let go of the line. 

That empty stare. 

*****

With his externally bleeding injuries cleaned and bound in bacta soaked bandages as well as he could, Obi-Wan had changed into the soft, dry tunic. His movements were slow and pain filled as he slipped into the warmth and safety of his cloak. 

Carefully he tightened his utility belt. The sharp pain in his side and chest nearly made him cry out. Steadying himself against the refresher unit's wall, he carefully drew inward to reinforce his shielding. The last thing he wanted was Qui-Gon reveling in his suffering.

The knight straightened but paused the instant he caught sight of his battered face. There was a gash on his right cheek where he had been smashed in the face with his saber hilt. The skin had swollen and darkened. He frowned and winced at the touch of pain. A hint of dark circles around his weary eyes did not help him. Though he knew there wasn't much he could do about that at the moment. The little white spots still danced at the edge of his vision but they were steadily growing clearer. 

Black bruises, reminders of the fingers that had tried to crush his airway, glared angrily back at him in the mirror. It was only that Makwest had believed he was easily killed that had saved him. 

The bitter taste of blood remained.

Obi-Wan's thoughts drifted back to the lush grass he had knelt on waiting for Soloban to deliver the coup de grace. He had been shocked by the fear that came knowing he was going to die. Worse, he was horrified that he so easily accepted his death without a fight. 

If it had not been for the brief touch of a child's mind–

The runner would have been too late.

At the moment, the only thing the knight wanted to think about was returning quietly to the cockpit and locking the door behind him. He turned to open the refresher door but hesitated. Blood had already soaked through his left wrist's bandage.

Tugging lightly on the cloak sleeves, he pulled them down to cover his wrists. Then slowly he opened the refresher door and stepped out into the small common area.

Making sure to divert his gaze, Obi-Wan focused on the door of the cockpit. Biting back the pain, he drew on the Force to aid in the short walk. Three steps short of the door, he stumbled catching his side on a rack. Fighting back the pained cry, he drew in a sharp breath that only made him hurt worse. Shaking white hands clutched the rack as he struggled not to pass out.

"You're hurt," Qui-Gon said dully as he looked up from his place next to Anakin.

"I am fine," Obi-Wan growled through clenched teeth, unable to completely mask all of the pain. Spots danced in his vision as he reached to open the cockpit door.

The Jedi master frowned slightly, but did not look to meet the younger man's gaze. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on his sleeping apprentice. The imprisonment and subsequent escape had taken its toll on his great countenance. Weariness laced his words. "You should not have done what you did."

"The diversion was necessary."

"You knew they were going to capture and kill you!" The Jedi master barked, clenching his hands into tight fists.

"It was an understood danger," Obi-Wan replied calmly. He needed to sit down before he fell down. "That diversion was what allowed you to get away. It is not my fault that you did not use it." Bitterness crept into his voice. "The Council gave me explicit orders to bring you back."

"But never at all costs!" Qui-Gon roared as he was on his feet in a moment. "You stupid, stupid child, did you learn nothing from me? All life is precious."

Withdrawing slightly, hurt creeping into his eyes, Obi-Wan stepped toward the cockpit door. "I–"

"The Council knows that. I know that! Why don't you?"

Obi-Wan snapped, "I did only as the Council wished. I do not regret anything I have done, Master Jinn." He really needed to sit down.

"I do only as the Council wishes," Qui-Gon mocked. "I get a better variety of answers from Anakin's droids."

Obi-Wan bristled. He was not capable of fighting with Qui-Gon at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and rejuvenation. Turning slightly and wincing in pain, he stepped toward the open door.

The Jedi master wasn't finished. "You do only as you please. Blast anyone else." 

The empty blue eyes hardened. He turned and went into the cockpit without a word.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called out softly with a tinge of regret in his voice.

Without glancing back at the master Obi-Wan spoke with a cold, yet even tone belying the pain that consumed him. "Knight Kenobi, if you will." He did not wait for Qui-Gon to say whatever it was. More afraid than anything the words would hurt worse than any physical injury he had suffered.

The door swished closed between them.


	28. Books of Returning, Demands

****

Part IV

__

The Book of Returning

Maintaining his extraordinarily tight shields had robbed Obi-Wan of energy needed for healing. What little strength he had left, he focused on trying to repair the internal damage.

Pain radiated through him with every short breath. 

His strength had steadily waned during the fourteen hours spent sealed up in the cockpit.

Pushing himself forward in the captain's chair, he studied the disengaged controls. The runner had been brought in via the city planet's automatic systems. Which was good because he didn't possess the strength to land the ship by himself.

Taking slow, shallow breaths he sank back into the seat. He would just sit there for a while, at least until the pain went away.

Still the taste of blood wouldn't leave him.

His muddled brain with the flashing lights drifted over the landing sequence. Once he had turned it over to air traffic control all he could do was sit back and watch the dazzling city planet that teamed with bustling life. 

The knight would have paid more attention to the city below if the sight of the Jedi temple rising above it all had not overwhelmed him.

Home.

Obi-Wan had already called ahead for the healers. They were waiting the moment the ship touched down. He had felt the ship's decompression the instant the ramp door had been opened. There had been so much noise from the team of healers that stormed in. Qui-Gon demanded that they take care of Anakin.

The fitful argument that had gone on when a healer apprentice insisted Qui-Gon be taken out on a stretcher. After an angry crossing of words, Qui-Gon was allowed to walk along side Anakin's stretcher.

Or at least that is what Obi-Wan thought. He didn't intervene or leave the seclusion of the cockpit.

Now the ship was empty and there was only silence.

Frowning softly, he hit the cockpit door control and the door slid open revealing a startled padawan learner. "Knight Kenobi," the teenage girl said as she formally bowed. 

He did not acknowledge her.

"The Council demands that you seek the healer's care."

"And then?" he asked softly.

The blond haired girl straightened slight. Her words were even, but then there was a slight hesitation. "At your convenience, you are summoned to the Council chambers to deliver a report on the mission."

"Are they convened?"

"Yes, sir." 

Driving the mask of pain and weariness from his face, Obi-Wan slowly stood up. He called heavily on the Force's swirling energies to aid him. Turning, the mask of cold indifference to the padawan, he said, "Tell them I will be there presently."

The padawan's not so emotionless face twisted as she repeated the Council's instructions. "You are to immediately seek the healer's care."

"It is not needed," Obi-Wan stressed.

"Sir, the Council said–"

"Tell them I will be there presently."

"But sir," the padawan tried to argue.

Obi-Wan brought up his hand silencing her. "You will not win," he said sternly. "Have me dragged to the healing center or summon the Council. Either way, get out of my way." 

*****

The Council chambers remained silent as the twelve masters studied the nearly motionless form in the center of the room. 

Obi-Wan wavered slightly as he struggled to maintain the façade of his wellness. He was certain the masters were just going to make him stand there until he passed out. Which at the way things were going, wouldn't be too much longer.

Weariness crept into the fine lines at the edge of his eyes. It took all of his energy to mask his condition from the masters. From their calm eyes though he could sense they were picking through the ruse. They knew, like they always did. 

He needed to shift or fall down or something to relieve the pain in his side. 

Still, the Council members sat there silently.

"Why did you not seek the healer's care like you were told to?" Mace Windu finally asked.

Obi-Wan stiffened. "I am not in need."

Again the oppressive silence returned.

Certainly his bruised face had drawn much of their attention. The flashes of white that marred the Council members' faces didn't help. He focused on the bright, Coruscant afternoon just beyond the wrap around windows. The sun glinted off the constant flow off traffic. Mixing with his dazzled vision.

He really just needed to rest. 

Just lie down until the pain went away. 

The little green master caught his attention. Yoda's ears were drawn back, eyes squinting as the small figure studied the knight.

Obi-Wan shifted slightly to help steady himself.

Mace's keen gaze slowly moved over the knight. He stared down at the floor around Obi-Wan's scuffed boots. "It was a difficult escape?"

"Yes, Master."

The senior Council member's gaze met Obi-Wan's. "General Soloban's regime claims to know nothing about any missing Jedi. They feel we are mistaken. They know of no prison escapes."

Obi-Wan didn't respond.

"The General has gone into seclusion following the accidental death of his son." Mace stared silently. 

The knight steadied himself as he waited for the questioning to begin.

"Injured you are," Yoda said. It was not a question.

"It is not serious," Obi-Wan replied.

"Hurumph." Yoda drew his ears back and squinted at the knight before him. "Bleeding you are."

Obi-Wan looked down at the droplets of blood on the tiled floor of the Council chambers. He stepped back, surprised by the revelation. Slowly he brought up his left hand and studied it. The bacta soaked bandages had bled through. He never even noticed the blood running between his fingers. "My wrists had been bound," he said softly, "in chains."

__

You stupid, stupid child, did you learn nothing from me? All life is precious.

"They were damaged in the escape," he whispered.

Sticky dry blood clung to the skin between his fingers. 

Tiny red droplets fell from his fingertips splattering across the floor.

__

I do only as the Council wishes. 

Wincing slightly, Obi-Wan massaged the bandage. Squeezing the wound tight in his grip. 

__

You do only as you please. Blast anyone else.

Yoda leaned forward in his seat. The little master silently stirred his gimer stick as he studied the man before him. "Seek the care of the healers, you will," the gravelly voice demanded.

Slowly, Obi-Wan glanced up at Yoda. He stared at the green skinned creature. "Master?"

Growling softly to himself, Yoda repeated his statement.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

__

Don't let them push you into this.

His vision swam as he slowly straightened. Remaining perfectly still, Obi-Wan waited for the Council to continue or to formally dismiss him.

__

I shall do as I please.

"Go," Yoda said with a wave of his hand. 

The second bow wasn't as deep or as proper as he was used to performing, but Obi-Wan knew if he leaned too far he would topple over. It would be improper to pass out before the Council.

__

Do not play their game solely because you are angry with me.

Not that bleeding all over the chamber floors was exactly right. His vision grazed the myriad of red that had surrounded where he stood. 

The Council, in all their wisdom had sat there and watched him bleed on their floor and did nothing.

__

I shall do as I please.

Not that he had ever embarrassed himself before the Council in the past. 

Passing out upon completing his trials immediately came to mind.

__

If you insist on pursuing this path then I want no part of this journey.

The doors to the Council chambers barely opened before Obi-Wan shoved his way into the hall. Pain danced in his eyes as he was no longer able to keep the stoic façade up. 

Every step grew more difficult as he trudged toward the lift.

__

You abandoned this path back on Tatooine, Master Jinn.

____________________

__

The Book of Demands

Master Healer Dirad shuffled through a stack of data pads. He glanced up slightly, before returning to the daze of information scattered on the desk before him.

"Master Dirad?" Bant Eerin asked softly from the doorway.

"Yes?"

"Master Jinn still has not left." She had tried to keep the worry from her voice but failed miserably.

Dirad sighed as he leaned back in his seat. After a moment he tossed a data pad across the desk and finally stared up at the Calamarian healer. "Is he injured?"

"Nothing rest will not heal."

"Throw him out."

"Master?" Surprise danced across her salmon features. The truth was, she was hoping Dirad would do the removing. The yellow skinned master healer was quite adept at chasing away worried masters.

Dirad studied Bant, who clung tightly to the office doorway. "You are no longer a padawan. You are a healer. Which gives you certain rights and authorities." He spoke sternly, "Throw Qui-Gon out."

A weak, pleading smile danced across Bant's features. Still Dirad did not back down.

"Yes, Master," Bant finally gave in as she bowed and silently exited. Throw Qui-Gon out? Easy for him to say. Without a word, Bant marched through the ward past the admittance desk. With a little luck there would be an emergency and she wouldn't have to deal with it. Balling up the frustration she released it to the Force as she slowed her pace slightly.

No reason to be in a hurry.

Qui-Gon wouldn't leave no matter what she said, there was no need to go storming in there like a bantha. Hesitating she adjusted her creamy colored smock and calmly glided to the admittance desk. She twisted calmly and stared out into the empty waiting area.

"Are there any messages?" she asked absently.

The Twi'lek padawan that sat behind the desk checked. "I'm sorry, there's still nothing."

Bant started to speak but was cut off.

"I'll let you know if anything comes in, but–"

"What?" The Calamarian healer leaned against the desk, worry dancing in her silver eyes.

"He's before the Council."

That's all Bant needed to hear. She smiled. If Ob-Wan was standing before the Council that meant he was all right. "Thank you," she whispered as she backed off a step.

Still there was a sense of worry fluttering on the edge of her thoughts. She couldn't help it. Glancing down the hall that led toward the bacta rooms Bant knew what she had to do. 

Obi-Wan wouldn't come to the healing center unless she forced him. Something told her she needed to make sure he was taken care of. With Qui-Gon hanging around though she knew it would be near impossible.

Steeling herself, she walked swiftly down the hall to the bacta rooms. As she turned to step in the little waiting room, she spoke calmly and evenly. "Master Jinn." Bant wielded the words as expertly as Qui-Gon handled a lightsaber. Drawing her shields tight, she blocked her obvious distaste for the man. The last thing she needed was to be accused of bias especially when Qui-Gon was so concerned about his apprentice.

The venerable master looked up from his meditations. Weariness reflected in his deep blue eyes. "Yes?"

"The only severe injury you suffer from is exhaustion. You need to rest. Go back to your apartment, clean up and sleep for a few hours. Anakin will remain in bacta until at least morning."

Qui-Gon studied her for a moment. "I should–"

"You will leave." Bant dearly hoped that Dirad was in earshot and would help her.

The yellow skinned master healer never made an appearance.

Qui-Gon just stared at her. "Anakin needs me."

"Master Jinn," she said formally, "the boy is under Dirad's care. You are just in the way. There is nothing you can do for him right now."

"I can be there for him," the older man replied as he slowly closed his eyes.

__

Please leave! She wanted to scream at him but the words never formed. Bant was all too aware of the ferocity and sense of protection Qui-Gon had over his padawans. She remembered that he was just like this when Obi-Wan was being cared for in the healing center.

Those days seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Go home and rest," Bant ordered. "You are doing yourself and Anakin no good. He will only worry if he finds you worse for the wear."

"I will not leave," Qui-Gon answered plainly staring at the curtain that separated them from Anakin's bacta tank. "I will be here for him when he wakes up."

Bant wanted to scream. _Where were you when Obi-Wan woke up?_

The Jedi master glanced up at her curiously.

Immediately Bant retreated knowing he sensed her hostility. Out in the hall, she paced.

"Didn't work, did it?" Dirad asked as he languidly walked toward her.

"He won't listen to me," Bant growled. "But he'll listen to you."

Dirad laughed as he patted her shoulder. "You are naïve my young friend." The master healer gave her a gentle smile. "Go sit down and calm yourself." The smile turned mischievous. "A call just came in from initiate housing. Seems your favorite visitor is on his way in for treatment after a fall."

Bant's eyes lit up.

More laughter as Dirad held his hand out suggesting the height of her _favorite visitor_. 

Bant frowned. "Not Bali again."


	29. Book of Temple Ghosts 9

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part IX

The steady beat of Obi-Wan's heart was the only sound in the vast, empty chamber.

The meditative trance had lasted so long that he had lost track of time. Not that it really mattered.

Time marched forward regardless.

The Force remained constant.

He drew on the power. The gentle tingling sensation of knowing it was at his beckon call. It's gentle strength permeating every fiber of his being. Breathing in deeply then exhaling he could feel the arcane mystery swirling around him. 

Echoing across the tile of the dark chamber were footsteps. They immediately pulled Obi-Wan from his meditation. A pale blue light cast a circle across the floor where he knelt.

Footsteps paced beyond the circle in the wash of darkness.

What have you done to us? _The voice was grizzled with age and wear._

Obi-Wan glanced around but saw only the wall of black that threatened to swallow him whole. The apprentice leapt to his feet. The action too quick after waking from a long coma. His strength was not complete and he wobbled slightly from the exertion.

The footsteps continued. He twisted following the sound.

Solitary, lonely footsteps circled him slowly.

You did not answer my question.

__

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan called out, his voice echoing against the darkness.

A low howl rolled up on the young man as a bright flash of light illuminated his surroundings. Sand dunes under an ominous blue sky appeared then quickly vanished into the suffocating darkness.

The footsteps continued to pace.

Obi-Wan shivered as the cold that had settled in his bones seemed multiplied. Tugging on the edges of his cloak he drew it tight. Again he turned to face the source of the sound but the echo was so powerful that he wasn't sure exactly where the footsteps were. Instinctively he reached for his lightsaber.

You will not need your weapon.

__

His hand wavered above the silver cylinder. Then slowly he relaxed his arm without touching the weapon.

A flash of red and blue cut through the darkness as two glowing lightsaber blades crashed together. The sound explosive in his ears. He tried to respond but found himself unable to move.

The blades clashed with an eerie disconnected feeling. No hilts, no hands, no one behind the flashes of red and blue.

The weapons withdrew and their hums echoed through the vast chamber drowning out Obi-Wan's pounding heart.

Another sound deafened him.

Steady. Mechanical. Reminded the young man of an air compressor. It rose above the hum. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

It was like breathing.

The red blade drew back as the blue one remained motionless.

Light flashed through the darkness revealing the cold gray of a battle station. Obi-Wan felt himself running toward a ship. There were other people with him. He tried to turn back to see them but something else caught his eye.

Red meets blue.

Darkness swallowed him again.

The young man twisted around, there was nothing but a sea of blackness.

Again the room lit up. In his hands he held a red saber. The mechanical breathing thundered in his ears. An old Jedi in a worn tunic and cloak stood before him.

Obi-Wan twisted but found himself alone in the darkness again.

He was so cold.

Suddenly a scream ripped through him. "No!"

Light flickered as a figure in black appeared. 

"Don't," he begged.

The menacing black figure paid him no attention as he drew the red blade back.

"Fight him!" Obi-Wan screamed to the old man who slowly raised his weapon but did not strike back. Did not move to block the deadly blow.

The red blade flew forward.

Darkness reigned.

The apprentice sank to his knees. "Why didn't you fight? Why didn't you fight?" he kept asking. "You let him kill you. You could have fought him."

Not all battles are won by a saber blade. 

__

Obi-Wan folded himself deeper into his cloak. He was so cold and tired. Slowly the Jedi padawan forced himself back to his feet. The wall of darkness remained.

The footsteps continued.

Would you be willing to lay your life down for the greater good? 

__

"I am a Jedi," he called out.

That is not what I am asking. 

__

Again Obi-Wan turned as he searched for the source of the continuing footsteps.

"Yes." The word was simple, but behind it carried the weight of a lifetime of training and beliefs. He did not falter to speak that one word with conviction.

Would you be willing to give up everything to be a Jedi? 

__

"I live to serve."

The footsteps continued.

Into the pool of light walked an old man. His white beard glowing against the pale blue illumination. The edges of his cloak were frayed and worn thin in places. Pale blue eyes studied the young man before him. "It is not enough to just serve," the older man with a lifetime etched in the lines on his face said. "You will be constantly tested. Your beliefs will be tried by fire."

"I am ready," Obi-Wan answered eagerly.

The elder Jedi just laughed. "To be young and foolish."

Obi-Wan chaffed at the remark.

Where the two men stood a lighted path appeared. It led into the darkness and vanished.

"Shall we walk, my young friend?" The old man asked with a smile.

For a moment the Jedi apprentice just stood there. He studied the lighted floor and then stared at the other man for a time.

"We all have paths to walk," The gray haired man said. "Come along." With that he started walking.

It took Obi-Wan a moment before he finally jogged after the mysterious figure. "Master Jedi–"

"No, no, just call me Ben."

"Ben–"

"You feel lost," Ben said interrupting Obi-Wan again. "As if the entire world has changed and you have not."

"I don't belong here anymore," Obi-Wan replied. "I used to have a place. I knew everything I did meant something."

"And now it does not?"

"Master Ben–"

"Just Ben," the old man corrected. "Hush child, the wind has ears. What I was and what I am are two different people. Two different paths."

The lighted path snaked through the darkness.

"I do not understand," Obi-Wan whispered. He searched the old man's passive face. Time had been unkind to the man and he wore the scars of a hard life deep in his pale eyes. He couldn't quite pull his attention away from the old man. There was something about him that was familiar. A kinship that he couldn't quite place.

"As a Jedi, you will walk the path less trodden. Not because it is easy, nor because it is difficult, but because it is the path that must me taken. Your service to the Order and to the Republic is the beacon that you follow."

"I am a Jedi," Obi-Wan repeated almost absently.

"Yes, that is what you are." Ben came to a sudden stop.

Obi-Wan looked down at their slightly swaying cloaks. The lighted path had forked.

"As Jedi, we are tested. We are put on trial by the crossroads. Every decision, no matter how small has ramifications on the whole."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Ben asked. 

Obi-Wan stared curiously at the old man. The conversation was confusing. He shook his head as he tried to make sense of the strange old man's remarks. He looked down at the junction in the path. 

One branch remained bright and shining. The other faded into the darkness.

"Everyday is a new trial," Obi-Wan said calmly. "Do I choose peace and calm through the Force or do I choose anger and hate? I have always lived with this knowledge." Slowly he stepped toward the bright path. 

Suddenly a dark shadow cast across it severing the path.

Obi-Wan withdrew slightly at the darkness. He glanced over at the path of fading light. It remained unbroken. Slowly his gaze found Ben's.

Deep sadness graced the old man's face. "You came to a crossroads several times during your life. Each choice you made opened new paths. New directions to go." Ben sighed softly. "In your battle with the Sith you could have let the hate and anger consume you."

"I found peace and strength in the Force," Obi-Wan replied.

"Your master lay dying."

"I had to save him."

Ben frowned and stepped across the shadow onto the broken path. "With that one act some paths closed to you."   
Obi-Wan stared helplessly at the old man. "He's my master. I had to do something. I just couldn't let him die."

"A faithful padawan." Ben gave the young man a sad smile. "Selfless. Always willing to put others before yourself. For that great suffering will be your constant companion."

"If that is the price of my service then I accept it."

The old man frowned, his pale eyes implored of the younger man. "Do not follow the path. Step away. Find another road. Do something else." The words came with urgency. "You do not have to follow the path blindly."

"I am a Jedi. The road may be difficult but I will not stray from it. I will live as a Jedi and I will die as a Jedi."

Ben motioned to the path that remained whole even as if faded into the darkness. "The journey will be difficult."

"I am willing," Obi-Wan answered with conviction.

"Much darkness lie ahead."

"I will fight it."

Ben's footsteps echoed in the chamber as he walked along the severed path. 

"You're just going to walk away?" Obi-Wan asked. "I have questions. Please. What do I do now?"

The old man turned briefly before vanishing into the darkness. Our paths have diverged.

__

When the old man had disappeared the path faded into total darkness, leaving Obi-Wan alone.

He was so tired. So cold. Slowly he shrugged deeper into the folds of his cloak. He was pushing too hard. Ben's words swam in his head. 

Weakness found his legs and he sank to the floor. He worked to calm his unsteady breathing and find his center. Slowly the peace returned. He closed his eyes, no longer wanting to see anymore paths.

The darkness crept back. The circle of light gradually filled the chamber.

A soft tapping echoed.

"It is over," Yoda's gravelly voice danced across the vast circular room. 

Obi-Wan looked up to see the little master step into the wide pool of light. "Master?"

"Complete, your trials are."


	30. Books of Interrupted Meditations, Frustr...

__

The Book of Interrupted Meditations

There was a soft swoosh of the lift doors as they slid open. Warm light of the bright Coruscant afternoon cascaded in from the myriad of windows that lined one side of the corridor.

Obi-Wan leaned heavily against the door as he studied the empty hall. Casting out on the Force he found the level empty. The revelation didn't surprise him.

A series of small conference rooms filled the center of the level, seven floors below the esteemed Council chambers. In the later hours, when the sky had turned dark the floor would be teeming with life as hundreds of Jedi crowded in to take part in debates and discussions on the nature of the Force and the Jedi's duty to serve.

Under the warm light there was only emptiness. 

He would have peace for a little while at least. 

Pressing his bleeding wrist against his aching chest, Obi-Wan stepped slowly from the lift compartment. The journey back to his apartment was too far and he needed to rest. 

Besides, he knew without question that Qui-Gon had set up camp in the healing center and would remain as long as Anakin remained. He would not go, not while they were there.

At the moment though, he just needed to sit down and take a few moments.

His pace was slow as he made it to the nearest chamber door. Inside the knight immediately reached for support. The bright sunlight that poured into the room mixed dangerously with the dancing spots in his vision blotting out everything before him. Clumsily he sought out a hard bench. The cool, hard surface felt strangely comforting as he sank down to it.

If he could just rest for a little while, then he could make it back to his apartment. Gently he supported his aching chest with the steady pressure of his arm against it, Obi-Wan allowed a few, deep, pained breaths. Groaning softly he resumed the slow, shallow breaths that were not as painful.

Habitually he pulled the folds of his cloak tighter. 

Always so cold.

Random thoughts played out through his weary mind. He could not help feeling trapped. It had been in the Council's eyes. They had seen through him. Had sensed the fear that he had felt. Without question, the circle of twelve sat in their chamber discussing what to do with him. They would make him a prisoner of the Temple, he knew that without a doubt. 

A small thought danced at the back of his thoughts. He needed to go to the healers. This time he had injured himself beyond his own means to heal. Still, going to the healing center meant he had to face Qui-Gon. 

He would wait. And maybe, if he was lucky, Anakin wasn't too seriously injured and he would be released.

Then it would be safe. 

A small shiver sent waves of pain through him.

Master Dirad had lied. The coldness never goes away. Some days he thought it was worse.

Seeking warmth he let his mind drift along the sandy plains of Tatooine. He didn't know why he still dreamt of that awful place. It was the past and he had vowed never to return. The thought of all that sand only unsettled his already unfocused mind so he shifted his thoughts to a more comforting place.

Where heavy mists hung above the warmed stones of the Temple's sun garden. Intricate patterns of colorful stones rose above a languidly flowing stream creating a moist warmth unlike the sands of Tatooine. He imagined the warmth wrapped around and soothing aching bones.

Unfortunately the sun garden was such a long walk away. 

His fatigued mind wandered the vast Temple briefly touching the places that had once been familiar and comforting.

In recent memory, though, he had felt little more than a stranger wandering the halls. For so long he had missed the serenity of home. His heart ached with a deep longing to be a part of it again.

Bant had offered that. Dragging him to the places where he had once been happy. Her silver eyes that so desperately searched for a smile on his worn features. 

__

You can't lie to me, I know you are enjoying this. 

Even when he said no, she knew the truth.

__

You do it because you love me. 

I tolerate you. 

Same difference. Memory of Bant's playful laughter as she dragged him to a conference on free will and destiny.

The knight glanced around the conference room. They had sat on the other side of the chamber, against the wall and half asleep as Master Denshau went into the sixth hour of his lecture.

That had only been four days ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed.

A strange sense of peace enveloped his troubled meditations.

Allowing the once familiar comfort to invade his thoughts he unconsciously reached out through the ancient building seeking everything that he had once felt so sure of. Mentally touching all of the places Bant had tried to re-familiarize him with.

His body was tired and beckoned for much needed rest. His mind drifted wearily searching for someplace, anyplace where his consciousness could find peace. 

So tired. 

He should call Bant. She would tell him when Qui-Gon was gone. She would send the master away. At least for a little while. He needed more than the healing trance. Pain laced every shallow breath as fire shot through his damaged torso. 

He searched his drifting thoughts, seeking his sometimes elusive center. Unconsciously his thoughts sought out the safety and childish innocence of the small boy who kept poking him the shoulder for reassurance of his realness.

A weak smile graced his worn face.

Pain raged through the tiny threads of an unwilling bond.

A child's terror cut through protective barriers like the brilliance of a lightsaber. Adrenaline surged through the knight as he was instantly on his feet. The fatigue that had been threatening to consume him shoved out of the way as he rushed to the lift.

______________________

__

The Book of the Frustrated

Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably in the bacta waiting room seat. In all his years of time spent in patient vigilance he had never known the chairs to be comfortable. His bones and muscles ached.

Bant had been right about him needing the rest but he couldn't just abandon Anakin. 

Slowly he stood up and stretched. Maybe if he could just find an empty sleep couch then he wouldn't have to stray to far from the boy.

Everything ached. He was getting too old too be sitting on a prison cell floor for days. If he were truly honest with himself he would say he was too old to chase a padawan around.

Sighing softly, the venerable, yet worn Jedi master walked slowly to the curtained off section of the room. Drawing back the drab material he revealed a bacta room. The bacta tank consumed the back wall. 

His old heart ached at the image of his unconscious padawan floating in the blue/green solution. Qui-Gon sensed the boy's struggles to pull himself toward consciousness.

__

Relax. We are back at the Temple. Through their bond the Jedi master bridged the distance between their minds. He sent a gentle suggestion, sending comfort and safety to the boy. _It is all right, my padawan, I am here._

Relief was felt at the edge of their bond.

Qui-Gon smiled gently.

A pained shriek echoed through the healing center spurring the master too attention. Automatically he reached for his weapon but remembered it had been lost during the imprisonment. He raced back down the hall to the main atrium.

"He kicked me!" Bant wailed stumbling back, holding her shin. "I didn't even touch him this time."

Master Na'tho laughed as he sank to the empty chair behind the admittance desk.

Qui-Gon raced into the room just in time to catch sight of a ventilation duct cover swing shut.

"You bit me last week, you little terror," Bant growled as she dropped to her knees before the duct. Pulling the door open, she struggled for calmness in her voice. "Come on, Bali, I'm just trying to help you."

"Leave me alone!" a small voice called out.

"Master Dirad!" Bant yelled.

"I'm off duty," the yellow skinned healer said with a smile as he quickly escaped the healing center.

"Coward!" she called out as she reached in and tried to pull the child out of the small compartment he had imprisoned himself in. "Ow! Stop that!" Bant recoiled and sat in the floor nursing her left hand. "He bit me, again!"

"You might as well get comfortable," Na'tho said softly. "It will be hours before you get the boy out."

"It was supposed to be quiet this afternoon," Bant groaned.

Na'tho inclined his head slightly toward the entryway. "Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon nodded back as he turned to glance back at the open duct. "What happened?"

The initiate supervisor frowned softly. "My little Bali in there," he motioned to the duct, "lost his concentration practicing katas. He fell. I believe he may have broken his arm."

"He's scared to death of healers," Bant growled as she edged away from Bali's hiding place, "which outweighs any pain he might be suffering."

The maverick Jedi master just smiled at Bant's discomfort. Without a word, he retreated back to the bacta rooms.

He could feel Anakin's dazed thoughts as the boy was beginning to wake up. Silently the master approached, studying the motionless form. The visible injuries had already disappeared. Soon Anakin would be awake and after a few unhappy days of rest then they would send him back to the comfort of their apartment.

His apprentice was healing and for that he was grateful. Sitting in the Tarsian dungeon he had not imagined that they would escape. There was even a brief moment that he had lost the hope he so desperately wanted his padawan to believe in.

Still his weary mind wandered. Dwelled on that brief moment of darkness that had crept into his soul in the Tarsian prison. He had worried for his padawan. Worried for himself. There are those moments that the Jedi master had wondered whether anyone knew of their desperate situation. 

The thing that haunted him, a memory that had seized hold of his heart still was those empty eyes that stared up at him from the nylon rope. That desperate, determined look. He had seen it so clearly in that moment on Naboo as death embraced him.

The fear that had raged through him at realization of being helpless to stop a simple selfless act.

Anakin's eyes slowly opened.

Qui-Gon pushed the unhappy memories away. They were the past. There was nothing he could do to alter it. He had the now to worry about and Anakin was awake.

__

Good evening, Qui-Gon sent through their bond with waves of warmth and comfort.

__

Have I been out that long, Master? 

Yes, my padawan.

Anakin glanced out through the clear glass at his surroundings. _Where are we? _

Back at the temple. 

A rush of relief flooded into the master from the youth.

Anakin pressed his hands against the tank walls. _When can I get out? _

"Soon."

A shrill cry radiated through the healing center. Qui-Gon turned, briefly distracted by the ruckus.

__

Master?

"Just an initiate, my padawan. He was injured and is giving the healers some trouble. Not to worry."

Anakin nodded and closed his eyes.

The clatter of equipment tumbling to the floor garnered so much of Qui-Gon's attention that he felt he should investigate.

"Master Na'tho," Bant pleaded, "can you do nothing?"

"You know as well as I do, he will come out when he's hungry. Attend to something other business until then."

"I need to take care of his arm," she said evenly.

Qui-Gon couldn't help the smile that formed at Bant's frustrated expression. Had it been his problem, which mercifully it wasn't, he would have set that boy straight in a heart beat. Still the master found it interesting that Na'tho wasn't climbing under the table to retrieve the boy and help him through the situation. Then again, maybe suffering Bant's fate wasn't up to the old master.


	31. Books of Healing, Temple Ghosts 10

__

The Book of Healing

A beacon of light and childlike innocence screamed through Obi-Wan's pain dazed mind. The source of it drew him through the vast temple. The adrenaline high and his natural strength of will crushed any external image of weakness as he was drawn toward the healing center.

Rounding the corner, Obi-Wan paused, pressing his hand against the wall to steady himself. Through the bright flashes of light that obscured his vision, his gaze caught sight of the pallid color of his blood stained hand. Twisting his wrist around he stared at the red soaked bandage that wrapped it. He gave a weak grimace at the sight. 

Why had he allowed himself to fall so far?

The child-like terror cut through his weakening shields jarring the knight from his thoughts. He was so tired. Steadying himself he stepped back from the wall and pulled his cloak tight. Drawing on the Force to aid his fading strength, he continued his journey toward the healing center.

At the entrance, he stopped again, leaning heavily against the frame for support. The little initiate, whether consciously or not insisted on shoving through his intricate shielding. Obi-Wan struggled to block the pain radiating from the young mind as his own was crippling enough.

Pushing himself from the doorway, he trudged into admittance. The first sight that his dazed vision locked onto was Qui-Gon Jinn at the entrance to the hall leading to the bacta rooms. Briefly he caught the master's look of disappointment before quickly looking away. 

Next was Na'tho's gentle, yet worried expression as the initiate supervisor looked up from his place behind the admittance desk.

"Obi-Wan!" Bant cried out happily as she ran into the room. Joy radiated off her as she rushed to her friend's aid. Sadness, fear reflected in her silvery eyes. 

Gently Obi-Wan pushed her helping hands away as he stumbled deeper into the room. He quickly twisted around searching for the frightened thoughts that had led him there.

"Obi?" Bant asked as she grabbed his arm. Worry glossed her salmon colored features as Obi-Wan pushed her hand back.

Walking to the wall where the benches had been pulled away, he fell against it and slowly slid down the smooth surface. The floor was so cold under his hands.

A pained gasp escaped as he twisted his damaged chest and side. Short quick breaths as he struggled to bite back the pain. He kept gasping as white washed over his vision. 

Bant drew close but Obi-Wan waved her back. "It's okay," he whispered.

Holding his breath, he slowly made himself turn so he could face the open grate to the duct. Peeking into the small space he could barely make out the small, curled up form.

"Hello."

Bali leaned forward slightly to see who was speaking to him. He smiled before withdrawing deeper into the duct again.

"He bites," Bant warned softly never taking her gaze from the rumpled up form of her friend on the floor.

"You probably deserved it," Obi-Wan replied with a weak laugh.

"Keep laughing," she growled. "I'm not letting you out of here without an excellent evaluation of my bedside manner." Concern was etched across her salmon features.

"Always threatening me." Obi-Wan tried to smile but it only twisted into a mask of pain. He gently pressed his arm to support his wounded chest. Resting his head against the wall he stared up at Bant for a moment and gave her a reassuring smile. Speaking slowly into the open duct, "There's no way out. It's blocked about ten feet back. Trust me."

There was a soft shuffling sound. Bali's bright green eyes peered out, then ducked back in.

"If I promise to sit with you, will you let Bant treat you?" Obi-Wan asked as he carefully reached into the duct.

Almost immediately a small warm hand grasped his. The wounded knight pulled and Bali clamored out of his hiding place, pausing just long enough to give Bant a wary look.

Bali tucked his injured arm against his chest and climbed into Obi-Wan's lap. The little boy then wrapped his good arm around the knight's neck and held on for dear life.

A wince escaped Obi-Wan as the little boy shifted slightly. To the knight's relief, Bali seemed to be conscious of his injuries and did nothing to further aggravate them.

The little boy twisted to look back at Bant. Then quickly buried his face in Obi-Wan's cloaked shoulder.

"She only wants to help you," Obi-Wan whispered, protectively wrapping an arm wound the little boy. He could sense Bali's fear subside. "I'm right here," he comforted.

Without loosening his grip around Obi-Wan's neck, he turned to study Bant's worried face. He leaned in close and whispered into Obi-Wan's ear. "She gave me a shot last time."

"That would scare me too."

"I heard that," Bant said coarsely.

___________________

__

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part X

"You will stand with me." It was spoken without question. Five little words all taken for granted. 

"I don't know if I can do that, Master."

Qui-Gon Jinn turned to face his unsteady apprentice. He lightly placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Twisting the wavering apprentice around to face him, he studied the pale figure before him. "Obi-Wan?"

The younger man closed his eyes momentarily as he leaned into Qui-Gon's hand to help steady himself.

"You should be resting."

"The Council summoned," came the simple reply as Obi-Wan snapped back to semi alertness. He turned slightly to stare at the looming Council chamber doors. Then slowly dropped his weary eyes to the floor so he didn't have to meet Qui-Gon's steady gaze.

The Jedi master smiled slightly. "Anakin is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon stressed. "Do you understand?"

"Master–"

"You know this is right."

"Yes, Master," was the dutiful reply.

The chamber door slowly opened. Without hesitation, Qui-Gon's cloak swept the floor as he quickly twisted and marched through the opening into the center of the room. He turned back to stare at Obi-Wan who stood silently out in the hall. The Jedi master gave his apprentice a questioning look.

After a moment Obi-Wan followed into the Council chamber.

Qui-Gon turned to see that his padawan learner had taken up his proper position a step behind and to the side. The venerable master then glanced around at the Council members, silently addressing each of them. "I come before you to discuss the matter of Anakin Skywalker."

"What matter?" Mace asked coolly studying the graying Jedi Master. "The Council has long since made it's decision. The boy will not be trained."

"I am begging you to reconsider."

"Master Jinn," spoke Adi Gallia. "This matter is closed. The boy will be circulated to the agricultural corps. That is all we can do for him. Unless you choose to return him to his mother's care."

Qui-Gon searched the room for anyone to aid in his cause. "Anakin must be trained. He is too powerful to be sent away." Playing his cards of desperation, "If there is a Sith threat–"

"Padawan Kenobi," Mace spoke without care that he had interrupted Qui-Gon. "What is your opinion on training the boy?"

The apprentice looked up curiously from his meditations of the floor tile.

"I would prefer to abstain," he said softly. Choosing not to meet anyone's gaze.

"I would prefer you answer," Mace said sternly.

Slowly Obi-Wan looked up to meet the senior Council member's steady gaze. He turned to face Qui-Gon. Then quickly he turned back to eye various members of the Council. "I think the boy is," he hesitated as if unsure how to go on, "dangerous."

Immediately he could feel the hurt through his bond with his master.

He could sense the betrayal creeping at the edges of their bond.

I thought you would support me?

__

Obi-Wan quickly moved to strangle the connection between them. He choked the bond, cutting the flow of thoughts and emotions.

Obi-Wan, why–

__

The apprentice blocked the bond. He didn't want his master to know that it was absolutely killing him to speak against his master. 

But he could not lie. Not to himself, not to the Council and not to his master.

Qui-Gon just stared at his apprentice with wounded eyes.

"And?" Mace pressed.

"He should not be trained." 

"Anakin is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon said quickly, disbelief clouding his leonine features. He wasn't speaking to the Council his attention completely focused on Obi-Wan. "Do you not understand?"

"I do understand." Obi-Wan met his master's gaze. "I understand that there is great danger training him–"

"You do not know that."

"Master. He is emotional. He has no control–"

"He has not had the privilege of growing up in the Temple. He was raised as a slave–"

"Exactly," Obi-Wan argued.

Qui-Gon narrowed his gaze at the younger man. Then quickly turned to the silent circle of masters. "Anakin can learn to control his emotions. I can train him and help him–"

"You already have an apprentice," Plo Koon said flatly, "need we remind you."

Qui-Gon straightened slightly, folding him arms into his sleeves. "Obi-Wan is capable, there is little more–"

"Choose your words carefully, Master Jinn," Mace warned.

There was a long silence.

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up, cutting into the oppressive silence. "Young Skywalker is scheduled to leave on a transport this afternoon–"

"You cannot," Qui-Gon said quickly. "You know that Anakin has the potential to become a great Jedi."

"Clouded, his future is," Yoda said, speaking for the first time. "Great danger lies in his training."

"If he is trained correctly–"

"Master Jinn," Mace barked silencing Qui-Gon's argument.

Qui-Gon spoke sternly, "I will not let you send him away."

"Master Jinn," Adi Gallia snapped, but her serene expression never showed any hint of agitation. 

The warnings did little as Qui-Gon studied the masters. "Obi-Wan has already proven himself."

"Stop now, before you regret it," Mace warned.

"Regret it? Regret what? I took a boy from his mother with the promise of training him to be a Jedi. I will not go against this."

"You know better than to make a promise that you cannot keep."

"Anakin is learning at an impressive rate."

Silence filled the room.

Qui-Gon adjusted his stance under the scrutiny. "I had to prove to you that he was worthy of being trained. I will bring him forward," the venerable master paused. "You know I am right." He was quiet for a moment. "Whether I train him or not, is not the matter, he must be trained."

"Regardless, Master Jinn," Depa Billaba began, "the Council denied the boy training."

"You were not willing to give him a chance." Qui-Gon spoke the words harshly as he coarsely gazed at the Council. "This boy will bring balance to the Force."

"At what cost?" Yoda inquired.

Mace massaged his temples. "We must evaluate this situation. Bring the boy."

Qui-Gon bowed curtly and started for the chamber doors with Obi-Wan slowly–obediently–in tow.

"Padawan Kenobi," Mace said. "You will remain."

The apprentice stopped, gazing at his master who evidently did not hear the call. Qui-Gon quickly disappeared into the corridor. Slowly the padawan returned to the center of the Council chambers.

Obi-Wan could sense the ruffle of concern floating through the masters as they sat in silent counsel.

"Did you know of this training?" Plo Koon asked.

"No, Master."

Silence lingered as the twelve studied the slightly wavering young man. 

Quickly the padawan glanced around the room. "My MasterMaster Jinn dismissed me, again."

"Not in so many words," Depa Billaba said. The apprentice turned to meet the master's kind eyes. 

The young man frowned as he shrugged into the layers of his cloak. He felt unusually cold and tired. "What happens to me now?"


	32. Books of Need, Not Being Alone

__

The Book of Need

Bant sat quietly on the bench next to the wall where Obi-Wan and Bali remained. She hadn't taken her gaze off the two in well over an hour. 

The little boy curled up against the Jedi remained motionless. His forearm bound in a compact bone knitter. His other hand clung tightly to Obi-Wan's mahogany colored cloak.

The Calamarian healer stole a little smile as she slipped off the bench and crept close to the two. Carefully she checked the bone knitter. 

Obi-Wan's arms still protectively encircled the small form.

The boy's arm was healing fine and she expected another hour or so before she could remove the device and become free of the small threat. Just as she was about to back away she realized two big green eyes were studying her.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered, praying the boy would answer softly so not to wake Obi-Wan, who slumped against the wall.

A little nod from where Bali rested his head against the cloaked shoulder. The boy's hand clutched the cloak tight as he twisted his face to study Bant's gentle expression. "Are you going to make him well too?"

Bant reached out and brushed her fingers across Obi-Wan's cool cheek. "Obi?" Panic filled her as she pressed her hand against his forehead. "You stupid, stubborn man." It was all she could manage.

A soft groan escaped the Jedi.

"Let's get you off the floor," she said gently.

"No," was the slurred reply, but Obi-Wan didn't open his eyes, in fact he remained completely still.

"Obi-Wan," Bant gave an exasperated sigh before a little smile crept over her features. "Are you going to let Bali think a big, brave Jedi knight is afraid of a little healer?"

Pale blue eyes peeked out from under heavy, bruised eyelids. Obi-Wan's clouded gaze sought out Bali's worried green eyes. He gave the little boy a weak smile. "What do you think?"

The eight year old grinned, tightening his grip around Obi-Wan's cloak. "I'll stay with you."

Obi-Wan gave a weak smile. "They're going to put me in bacta for a day or two," he whispered.

"Or four or five," Bant corrected as she pressed her hand to Obi-Wan's injured side. He made a sharp gasp. "Maybe six."

The knight squeezed his eyes closed, taking in short, quick breaths.

Bali stared at him for a long time. "It's okay," the little boy whispered as he patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. Then he reached out for Bant and she helped him to carefully get to his feet. 

"I don't suppose you would let me put you in one of the rooms?" She asked the initiate.

"No," Bali said adamantly shaking his head. He climbed onto the nearby bench. "I'll wait here."

Accepting defeat with the child, Bant turned her attention back on Obi-Wan. "I'm going to call for Master Dirad." 

Obi-Wan nodded slighty, then closed his eyes, sinking deeper against to the wall. 

Immediately, Bant went to the communications unit behind the desk to contact the Master Healer.

Without the support of the little boy in his lap, Obi-Wan slumped further.

"Bant!" Bali cried out just as Obi-Wan fell over with a dull thud.

_________________________

__

The Book of Not Being Alone

A low groan filled the small room. 

"Take it easy," Bant said softly as she brushed her fingers through Obi-Wan's bacta dampened hair. "It's going to take a while for the sedatives to wear off."

The knight, fresh from the bacta tank, lay sleeping on a medical sleep couch wrapped in warm blankets. All external signs of injury had evaporated in the nearly five day stay in the blue/green liquid. 

Another low groan as he shifted slightly. 

"Rest," Bant whispered, pressing a salmon colored hand to his shoulder. "You're still under heavy sedation." She frowned slightly taking a moment to pull up another warm blanket. "Every time you woke you started fighting the treatment. We had to keep you out." She sighed softly. "It's going to take a while to work the drugs out of your system."

An incoherent mumble as Obi-Wan drifted back into the depths of a drug induced sleep.

Bant sat at the edge of the bed. Half speaking to herself, she went on, "Master Dirad thinks you should have spent another day or two in bacta but he was afraid to keep sedating you." She gave a small frown. "Just sleep. I'm not going to let you out of here for a few more days." There was a hesitation as Obi-Wan groaned again. "Stupid, stubborn man," she growled. A little sniffle escaped. "Some people might actually miss you if you left us."

There was a little shuffling sound at the doorway.

The Calamarian healer twisted. A sad smile as her silvery eyes found Bali leaning against the doorframe. "Don't tell me you're hurt again."

Bali smiled as he held up his left pinky. "I think I sprained it."

"Master Na'tho is going to get worried about you always disappearing."

"I want to be here," Bali said softly as he strained to see the sleeping knight. "Is he okay?"

"He'll live," Bant said softly.

A low groan.

"You nearly killed yourself this time," Bant softly admonished as she brushed her fingers through Obi-Wan's hair.

She was answered by a growl.

A little smile danced across Bant's features as she turned to face Bali again. "He's going to be very upset when he fully wakes up," she whispered.

Bali crept into the room and curled up in a nearby chair. "I want to stay," there was a moment of hesitation, "for a little while."

"Let him sleep, okay?" 

The initiate eagerly shook his head.

Bant put her finger to her lips motioning for the little boy to keep quiet as she stood up. For a moment she just studied the peacefully sleeping expression. Then quietly she walked from the room, hesitating long enough to look back.

Bali had already slipped from his chair and was perched next to the sleep couch. 

Out into the corridor Bant came to a sudden stop. Qui-Gon Jinn stood stoically blocking the way back to the medical lounge. "Master Jinn," she said as she performed a formal bow.

"Bant." The Jedi master internally noted the hostility brewing under the gentle healer's surface.

"Is Anakin in for his daily checkup?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered coolly. "Dirad insisted at least for a few more days." The tall master nodded toward the room she had just exited.

"He'll be fine," Bant said harshly and stormed off.

__

Where were you these last few days?

Qui-Gon just stood there not really surprised by the young healer's reaction. Bant had never made it a secret that she didn't like him. Turning slightly he stared down the hall where she had disappeared. His first instinct was to return to the exam room where Anakin was. 

Of course Dirad had thrown him out. Told him in not so polite terms to find a chair in the waiting room.

His feet remained planted to the floor. Leaning slightly he was able to peer a little bit into Obi-Wan's private room. At first all he could see was the little initiate pressed to the side of the medical bed.

Startled, big green eyes turned and stared worriedly at the tall master staring in. Immediately Bali reached out and wrapped his little arms around Obi-Wan's.

Casting out on the Force, Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan's heavily drugged mind trying to pull into consciousness. Thoughts drifted cloudy and unfocused.

A soft groan escaped the knight.

"It's okay," Bali said gently, reassuringly, pressing a small hand to Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

Curious of the little boy, Qui-Gon stepped into the doorway but stopped. His gaze caught on Obi-Wan. He almost didn't recognize the face. The few times he had seen the knight in the last few years he was always met with a harsh, cold look. The dead eyes. 

The hard lines of Obi-Wan's brows were softened by sleep. His lips slightly parted as if he were about to say something, but the words never came. A sleepy sigh was the only sound. The grown out ginger hair and beard did little to hide the boyish face.

Qui-Gon pulled his attention away from the sleeping knight to the little boy. "Why are you here?" 

Fearful green eyes studied the master, then flicked around the door Qui-Gon easily blocked. "Bant said I could stay for a little while," he sputtered defensively. "I'm not leaving."

Raising a gentle hand, the master settled the boy. "I won't make you leave," he said with a smile and a laugh. "I was just curious."

Obi-Wan mumbled senselessly and weakly tugged on the blanket.

Quickly the little boy grabbed the edge of the warm blanket and pulled it up over the shivering form of the knight. A small hand patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. "He stayed with me when Healer Bant fixed my arm." Bali didn't look up to meet Qui-Gon's gaze. "Bant says he doesn't like healers either so I'm staying with him."


	33. Books of Understanding, Broken Barriers,...

__

The Book of Understanding

With Anakin's daily check up taken care of earlier that day, Qui-Gon found it strange that he was being led back to the healing center. The Force had called to him, beckoning for him to follow the subtle guidance. He turned from his trek to the temple library and walked the solitary path following the beacon. 

He stopped briefly in the entranceway of the center. An apprentice healer looked up from behind the admittance desk. "Master Jinn? Is everything all right?"

"I believe so," was the slow, if not slightly confused reply. The tall master turned to stare at the padawan. "Is Master Healer Dirad in his office?"

"Yes, he–"

Without waiting Qui-Gon took off at a quick pace through the corridor that led to various offices. He quickly found Dirad's office and filled the doorway.

The master healer sat in front of a plain desk piled high with data pads. He shuffled through the stack, mentally making notes of what he saw. "Isn't once a day enough for you, Master Jinn?"

"How is he?" Qui-Gon asked.

Dirad looked up from his stack of data pads. "I'm sure your apprentice if fine. He's not showing any sign of complications."

"I mean Knight Kenobi."

A mildly surprised look danced over Dirad's yellow face. "He released himself a few hours ago." Dirad said dully taking his gaze from the tall master. "Frankly I don't know how you kept him here at all over the years. It used to be short of heavy sedation that we could barely keep him here long enough to get his wounds treated. The only reason he was taken care of now was he passed out in our lobby." Dirad paused as he made a note of something interesting on a data pad. "He's never been fond of this place and it grows worse the older he gets. Conventional treatments is all we have, Force healing is out of the question."

"Why?" The question was simple. One he had heard rumor of for some time but never a clear answer. Qui-Gon's tall form leaned heavily against the doorframe of Dirad's office.

"Master Jinn," the healer said irritably as he finally looking up at the other man. "You of all people should know how damaged Obi-Wan was after your confrontation with the Sith. He very nearly killed himself to save you. Or did you think he was just worn out?" Dirad studied the fierce look of the other master. "There are always physical and psychological damage."

Without hesitation, Qui-Gon demanded, "Explain."

Dirad just shook his head. He opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment of quiet contemplation he began slowly, "You spent your padawan years learning the Jedi arts. You also spent the time learning negotiation. With that early knowledge you have become a power negotiator."

Qui-Gon nodded for the healer to continue.

"Healers learn how to use the Force to heal. It is an art in and of itself. Certainly, when Anakin was younger if he cut himself you healed the injury and taught him to heal it himself."

"Yes."

"But you don't have the knowledge to heal severe injuries."

The Jedi master's eyes shifted slightly. 

"Ask any of the healers here. Mortal wounds cannot and should not be healed." After a long pause, Dirad continued, "I don't know what Obi-Wan did. I wish I did. He somehow managed to save you and not kill himself in the process. That happens once out of every thousand attempts. The records of such a thing are few and rare and none of them provide the slightest clue to what happened. All I can attribute to it is that it is the will of the Force that kept you both alive."

Qui-Gon frowned but said nothing. The master healer was renowned for his caring bedside manner. He didn't expect the yellow skinned healer to be quite so blunt.

"I do not believe you suffer any of the ill effects of a the healing."

"What is that supposed to mean?" The master straightened, shoving his hands deep in the sleeves of his cloak.

"That," Dirad said as he nodded at Qui-Gon's action. "That is a reflexive reaction. You do that to puff yourself up, to make yourself more dominating. You do that to show everyone that you control the situation. Your former apprentice does that because he is cold, plain and simple."

With almost an embarrassed reaction, Qui-Gon allowed his arms to fall to his side. He had seen the motion, the action of Obi-Wan folding himself into his cloak. He used to notice the subtle shiver that accompanied it. He used to notice a lot of things. "When will it go away?"

"For him? Probably never."

___________________________________

__

The Book of Broken Barriers

A gentle breeze shifted through the reddish leaves of the ancient yawen tree. In the distant edges of the meditating garden the sound of a waterfall mingled with the rustling leaves.

Sheltered by the yawen, Obi-Wan sat in a meditative stance. Pain raged through him but he would not return to the healing center.

Not as long as there was a chance that Qui-Gon may show up there with his apprentice.

He was no longer in danger of dying, he was going to hurt but he was used to that. Sighing softly to himself, he welcomed the pain. Thanked his body for telling him that he had damaged it and released the pain to the Force.

Yet it did not entirely go away. 

Just beyond the cascade of the waterfall were tiny footsteps creeping along the path. Children's laughter echoed in the distance through the gardens.

The Jedi knight shifted slightly and immediately regretted the action, wincing at the pain that radiated through his chest.

Footsteps stopped.

Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes and was not surprised to see the little initiate peeking around the ancient tree. He tried to give the little boy a smile even as he tried to relax a small piece of his shielding to allow Bali to sense his presence.

The nervousness in his bright green eyes subsided as he moved from the protection of the tree. 

Knowing the younger initiates are not often seen unaccompanied in the garden, Obi-Wan asked, "Does Master Na'tho know you are running around here? You might fall and re-injure your arm."

The little boy lowered his gaze. "No, sir." Then nervously rubbed his recently injured arm. "I'm supposed to be careful with it," he answered.

"You should listen to Bant, she only wants you to be well."

"Yes, sir," Bali answered. Then he looked curiously at Obi-Wan. "Do you listen to her?"

Obi-Wan gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "Sometimes."

"She says you're stubborn and a bad influence."

"She's usually right."

Great, he's being admonished by an eight year old.

Bali giggled and fell to his knees in a matching meditative stance. "You still hurt," the boy said softly. It wasn't a question but a statement.

At first Obi-Wan wanted to withdraw and tighten his shields but instead he closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, centering. "Yes," he said. 

For a long time, Bali just stared curiously at Obi-Wan. "Thank you for sitting with me at the healers."

Obi-Wan nodded a gentle your welcome' and winced. After a moment of silence he spoke up, "I should thank you as well."

A smile erupted over the small boy's face. He studied the meditating knight. "Do you get hurt a lot on missions?"

"It try not to."

__________________________

__

The Book of Discussions

"And what should we do with Knight Kenobi?" Mace asked from his seat in a private conference room.

Yoda tapped his stick against the side of table but said nothing. His thoughts seemed elsewhere.

Mace shifted slightly, leaning heavily against the table as he continued. "According to Qui-Gon's report, Obi-Wan told them to leave regardless of whether he was there or not." He waited, searching for any sort of reaction in the small creature. After a long pause the senior Council member shifted, not surprised by the silence. Irritably, he asked, "Am I speaking to myself?"

"Listening to you, I am," Yoda said finally. 

Without taking his eyes off the small master, Mace leaned back in his chair. 

Yoda sighed. "New project, Obi-Wan needs."

"That much is obvious. We have tried and failed miserably. It is time for drastic measures."

"Bali," Yoda said coolly as if that were the only answer.

"He has shown no interest in taking the boy as a padawan learner." Mace studied the little master sitting across from him. "No more games, Master."

"Sound like Qui-Gon you do." Yoda stopped stirring his gimer stick against the floor.

"I know you well enough to know that you are up to no good."

"Know me well you do not," Yoda said sharply. "Bond they have beginning."

Mace's look was briefly surprised then immediately returned to his usual staid expression. "And you know this how?"

"Spoken to the boy," Yoda said plainly. "Most dangerous mission raising a padawan is. Come around, young Obi-Wan will."


	34. Books of Brief Encounters, Ultimatums, R...

__

The Book of Brief Encounters

A soft whooshing sound as the lift glided down the shaft toward a primary level. The small compartment was cold, or at least Obi-Wan felt cold. He shrugged into the folds of his cloak searching for a bit of warmth. The knight slowly straightened and pushed back the chill that grew the closer the lift got to its destination. His expression hardened and grew icy as he focused on the task ahead, reporting to Yoda.

Who was he fooling? Obi-Wan asked his self. The little green master would see through the façade. His side still ached with every breath and he would rather curl up in the safety of his little apartment just to be left alone.

When the doors opened on the primary level all of Obi-Wan's calming techniques were not enough to protect him from the sight that greeted him.

Blocking the exit was the commanding figure of Qui-Gon Jinn. The sharp eyes of the Jedi master softened when he glanced down at the quiet boy next to him. Anakin smiled softly, leaning against Qui-Gon for support. 

Very quickly Obi-Wan's gaze found a point far down the hall so he didn't have to face the other two. Tugging on the edges of his cloak he stepped from the lift and walked as wide a circle around the two as he could.

Qui-Gon twisted to watch the knight walk away.

"Master?" Anakin asked tiredly.

"Yes, Padawan?"

A chill bit deep into Obi-Wan. He picked up the pace not wanting to be witness to the happy scene.

Anakin's voice was small, almost fragile, "Shouldn't we thank him?" 

"We will another time," Qui-Gon said softly as he ushered the boy into the open lift. Once in the lift, Qui-Gon turned to watch Obi-Wan's long stride that quickly led him down the halls. "Obi-Wan–"

The knight kept walking. Never looking back.

______________________

__

The Book of Ultimatums

"Deeply wounded."

"Is that what you think of me?" Obi-Wan asked as he heavily leaned against the viewing deck rail above the initiate practice floor. He shifted slightly, but kept the pain from his staid expression.

From his perch the little green master glanced sidelong at the knight. He sighed softly, gently shaking his head. "Wounded in more ways than one."

The knight eyed the little master warily but said nothing. He turned his attention back to the floor below. Children ran about and took up position for their sparring lessons.

At the edge of the mat, Bali was immediately engaged in battle. The boy was chased back to the edge of the mat by his sparring partner but at the last moment Bali fell into a familiar defensive stance. 

Familiar to anyone who had ever seen Obi-Wan Kenobi fight.

"Teach him that, did you?" Yoda asked glancing over at the contemplative knight.

"Is there a rule against that?"

The little master snorted agitatedly. "Rule there is not. Reserved for masters a right it is."

"He needed the guidance," Obi-Wan said defiantly.

Bali turned against his opponent with another familiar defensive stance, this time driving his opponent back across the practice floor.

"Good master the boy needs."

"Master Yoda–"

"Argue with me you insist." Yoda sadly shook his head as he studied the boy on the blue mat.

Unconsciously Obi-Wan pulled at the edges of his cloak as he studied the small forms below. Bali's bright green eyes flashed as he determinedly brought his training saber against his opponent's.

"He is too young," was Obi-Wan's weak excuse.

"Humph!"

"I can barely take care of myself. You of all should know that." The young man slowly straightened, biting back the sharp pain in his side. A small groan escaped him as he pressed a hand to his aching side. "Or tell me that you are not leading the charge to keep me a prisoner of the Temple?"

Yoda narrowed his eyes. "Guidance you need."

"I would not make a good master." The words were spoken sharply. Obi-Wan quietly studied the practicing children. His focus particularly on Bali who was quickly loosing the sparring match. Absently, "His stance is still wrong. He's afraid of taking the hits." He shook his head trying to free himself of his daze. "I wouldn't even know where to start," he half mumbled.

Yoda drew his attention from the floor below and stared at the knight for some time. "Feeling of all new masters. Different you are not. Example you have in your own apprenticeship."

"That is a poor example," Obi-Wan laughed bitterly but regretted the action, pressing his hand to his side.

"Humph!" Yoda whacked Obi-Wan in the arm. 

With a look of surprise the knight withdrew out of the little master's reach. 

"Not without problems, yes? Excellent knight you have become. Qui-Gon's training has served you well. An example in it you should seek."

"Does that include abandoning your padawan in favor of another?"

"A mistake," Yoda said, "he made."

"Master–"

"Deeply wounded it has left you."

Obi-Wan stared down at Bali. 

"Go on, you must."

Bali's opponent easily delivered the match-ending blow. The little initiate stopped and stood there silently before bowing. The little boy turned to look up at the viewing level. He smiled briefly before scampering off to the next lesson.

"A bond you have," Yoda said after a long silence. The ancient master slipped from his perch and hobbled away. "Meditate on it. Expect an answer soon, I do."

Obi-Wan turned to argue with the little master but just stopped.

________________________

__

The Book of Realization

Obi-Wan stood silently before the closed lift doors with his head bowed slightly quietly meditating as he waited for the doors to open. He had slid his left hand through the layers of his cloak and gently pressed it to his sore side for support. 

All the knight wanted to do was return to his small, peaceful apartment and lie down. Contemplate Yoda's ultimatum. The ancient master was out of his mind. 

The little initiate needed someone he could depend on, someone who would be there.

The in borne chill urged him to tug at the edges of his cloak. The coldness made his injuries ache worse. Borderline exhaustion had seized hold of him. Did Yoda not see it in him? Certainly the ancient master, who noticed everything, knew he was not up to any challenge, especially not the demand of taking on an apprentice. 

Bali Tiro, the bright green eyed boy, deserved better. 

The lift doors soundlessly slid open. The knight prepared to step into the compartment but stopped. Facing him with stern eyes was Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan withdrew deeper into his cloak but did not make any move toward the open compartment.

Qui-Gon studied the sight before him, then silently stepped closer to the brushed silver wall making plenty of open space. 

Obi-Wan stared hesitantly into the compartment. He had faced far more deadly situations. He could handle a few moments trapped in silence with his former master. Stepping swiftly into the small room before the doors glided closed. He turned to face the doors without allowing his gaze to pass Qui-Gon's. Glancing at the smooth black panel he noted the master was heading to the same primary level. 

Unconsciously the younger man reinforced his shielding. Fearful that the other would sense his uneven thoughts. His mind drifted back to the practice floor and all of the initiates, but mainly he focused on the memory of the little boy. The stark determination in his eyes as he struggled against a more skilled opponent.

As the lift glided toward its destination, Qui-Gon loudly cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the shiny walls of the compartment. "Anakin should not have said what he did to the initiate."

Obi-Wan did not answer, just stared blandly at the doors in front of him.

"I was–"

"Keep him away from Bali," Obi-Wan warned turning cold blue eyes on the master. After a moment he returned his gaze to the doors.

Qui-Gon frowned. "Obi-Wan–"

"Knight Kenobi, if you will." He was well aware of the bitterness that Qui-Gon had often used to speak his name. The way it was spoken dehumanized him more than he already felt.

The master sighed irritably. "You are making this more difficult than it has to be."

The knight remained silent.

"I would like to thank you for coming to Tarsis–"

"I do only as the Council pleases."

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he turned to glare at the side of the younger man's face. The hard lines of his set eyes robbed Obi-Wan of the boyish appearance. "It is hard to believe so much has changed in the last few years." There was a moment of silence. "You have changed so much."

Obi-Wan blinked incredulously but did not honor the older man by looking his direction. He could feel it, just at the edge of his senses, amplified by the walls of the lift. The sense he had felt before. Shame, anger and hurt reflected in the Jedi master's aura.

"I told you not to let them push you," Qui-Gon growled. 

"I made my own choices."

"What choice is that?" Qui-Gon snapped, a sharpness to his words. "What choice?"

Obi-Wan twisted slightly to stare at the fiery look in Qui-Gon's features. 

"You were trained to be a diplomat. To be a negotiator. Peace and justice, remember those words?"

"When that fails?" Obi-Wan demanded. "When that fails I come in. I fix things. I save lives."

"When all else fails," Qui-Gon repeated sternly. "You have no other methods save violence and action. You never even try other avenues."

The knight clutched the tightly drawn folds of his cloak as he snapped, "If I didn't there would have been no one to save you."

"I would rather be dead than watch you kill yourself." 

Obi-Wan withdrew to the far wall, his gaze fixed to the blurry image in the brushed silver surface. 

"We walk a difficult path. There is no reason for you to make the road harder."

Immediately Obi-Wan reached out, smashing his hand against the smooth black control panel lighting every floor hoping the lift would suddenly stop and release him from the torment.

"No," Qui-Gon said as he slammed his hand against the stop button, freezing the lift between floors. His voice calmer as he spoke, "I allowed my judgement to become clouded."

Obi-Wan's fingers searched the panel for the release. A sigh of relief escaped him the instant the lift started moving again. 

"If I had it to do all over again–"

"Neither of us would have done anything different." Yet there was regret–hurt–echoed in those words that Obi-Wan was unable to stifle.

"I hurt you."

"You did what you believed in. I know that." Obi-Wan pressed to the lift door as the compartment slowed. "It has always been your way and I was wrong not to accept that."

"Padawan," Qui-Gon breathed, the word feeling so natural and right. He carefully reached out for his former apprentice.

Obi-Wan shifted out of his reach turning those dead eyes on the master. "That part of me died on Naboo, Master Jinn." He dropped his gaze to the floor. The person he had been before the Battle of Naboo and the person he was after were two different creatures. 

His master had lay dying on the floor of the melting pit chamber. He offered his life to save the elder Jedi. In a singular, selfless act, the padawan he had once been died, severed from him as if it had never existed. The will of the Force commanded that it wasn't enough to offer up healing energies to save his dying master. Something else had to be sacrificed. 

He had given away a part of his soul without thinking of the consequences and didn't know how to continue to live without it.

"I trusted you," Obi-Wan said softly pressing against the lift door, willing it to open. "I woke alone." Clearly remembering the moment the light had fled his eyes. That was when he realized the person he was had ceased to be and all he was doing was struggling to hold onto frayed threads of his former self. 

He had to let go.

Go on, as Yoda had advised.

"Obi-Wan–"

"You don't have that right, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon straightened. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as the lift came to a complete stop. 

"I am sorry," Qui-Gon said finally.

"You are apologizing to ghosts and the dead cannot forgive. The past is what it is and we cannot change it, only accept it." There was a moment as the lift settled and the soft click as the door locks released. "We are the past." The instant the lift doors opened, Obi-Wan pushed his way free of the small compartment and headed into the corridor. He didn't care what level he was on or where it led just as long as it took him away from Qui-Gon Jinn.


	35. Books of Apologies, Friendly Advice

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The Book of Apologies

Having finished his required classes for the afternoon, Bali gathered up his study notes and wandered out of his classroom. An hour of free time before a required meditative session was the only thing on his mind. A dip in the pool would relax him.

He didn't get far before he stopped short. 

The initiate's senses were on high alert as he glanced around nervously. Panic flooded the small form and Bali clutched his class work closer as he turned and sprinted down the long corridor.

Knowing an attack was imminent the boy skidded over the polished surface. He bounced against the wall and flew back the other direction. Bali only made it a few steps before something caught his tunic and whipped him backward.

Opening his mouth to scream a hand clamped over it before he could make a sound. So he bit a finger that wandered too close to his teeth.

The larger boy screamed as Bali tried to break free.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Anakin said quickly pulling Bali back by the arm. 

The little boy squeaked but stopped and turned staring at Anakin with wide green eyes. Fear crept over his features, as he had not yet mastered calmness of expression.

"Don't run," Anakin said slowly. "I promise I don't want to hurt you."

Bali took a step back the moment he was let go but just stood there. His muscles tense, alert, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Anakin smiled and started to kneel but the little boy before him skittered back another step. "I'm really sorry about what I said to you before."

The words caught Bali's attention and he studied Anakin for a moment. "You lied."

"I was angry."

"You're not supposed to be."

Anakin's cheeks flushed at the chastisement. "Look, I'm sorry. Don't believe anything I told you. Okay?"

"I already know," Bali said plainly. 

Anakin stared at Bali with surprise for a moment. "How?"

"I talked to him," came the brave little voice behind frightened green eyes. 

Almost immediately the padawan learner withdrew. "Look, I'm sorry," Anakin repeated. "That's all I have to say." 

"You lied," Bali repeated.

The padawan turned and stormed off without ever glancing back at the small form in the middle of the hall. 

_________________

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The Book of Friendly Advice

"Stop looking at me like that and eat your mush," Bant said as she sat down on the couch next to Obi-Wan. She desperately tried to sit there quietly and release her frustrations to the Force.

Obi-Wan picked at the bowl of white paste.

"Eat," Bant ordered. 

The knight made a face and pushed the bowl off on his friend. "I'm not hungry."

Juggling the bowl in one hand, she reached across and pressed a hand to Obi-Wan's sore side. A sharp intake of air told Bant all she needed to know. "Not hungry because you don't feel well?"

Wincing, Obi-Wan pushed her hand back. "I'm sick of that stuff," he growled.

"Good," the Mon Calararian healer said as she pushed the bowl of paste back at him. "Then we can find you some real food." She frowned slightly at her friend's uncomfortable look. "I still think you need to have Dirad check your side again." 

"It's fine," the knight grumbled as he curled up into the folds of his cloak, pushing the bowl back in Bant's direction.

"Eat your mush," she demanded shoving it back at him. "I'm not leaving until you empty that bowl."

Obi-Wan gave a pained groan but refused to take the bowl. "That stuff is sickening."

"It can't be, it doesn't have any taste."

"Exactly."

Bant broke into a big smile. "Maybe I ought to drag you down to the cafeteria, then. How about a nice big, juicy bantha steak?"

"How about something gentler?"

The healer reached into her bag and pulled out a box. "Sandow soup? It has a little meat in it and is slightly less bland."

"I'm still not hungry," Obi-Wan responded by drawing back slightly. He pulled at the edges of his cloak. 

Bant sighed at the all too familiar action. She hated it that he did it, that he was always so cold. And that there was nothing she could do to help him. "You've got to eat or you're not going to heal." She shoved the sandow soup toward him. "Besides, you're still under healer's care. I'm not going to let you die on my watch." She sighed loudly as she pulled up the edge of Obi-Wan's cloak and pulled it over him. "I worry about you. You need another day in the bacta tanks." 

"I'm fine."

"You don't have to hurt like this."

"It gives me something to focus on." Blue eyes studied her for a moment, then shifted away.

Bant let out a frustrated scream as she jumped up and marched around the small apartment. "Oh you stubbornman! I hope Bali doesn't pick up your bad habits."

Obi-Wan shot her a sharp look but said nothing.

"Eat your soup," Bant said as she calmed down slightly.

Unhappily, Obi-Wan stirred the bits of meat around the bowl.

"I talked to Garen today."

The knight looked her over warily.

"He'll be returning to the temple soon for some downtime after a long mission to the Leorarin Sector. I told him you were here and that we should all get together."

Obi-Wan frowned but said nothing.

"What? You don't like Garen?"

"It's not like that." Again he frowned. "It's just been so long."

"I know, but he's your friend, remember? He's always asking about you, but you are always gone on some dangerous mission or another."

Obi-Wan said nothing.

Bant grimaced as she flopped back down on the couch nearly bouncing Obi-Wan off onto the floor. "Sorry." She waited patiently--as patient as she could--for him to say something, anything. "Come on, you need to do something."

"Don't you start planning my life too," Obi-Wan growled, dragging himself to his feet and pacing the short distance of the tiny room.

"I am not," Bant responded indignantly. "You don't do anything I tell you to do," she argued, reaching out the moment the knight wandered too close to her. With a smooth movement, she caught Obi-Wan's side with her fist.

He howled.

"I've told you several times a day, for the last two days to get that treated. You're too hurt to heal it all on your own."

"Try keeping your hands to yourself," he warned half-heartedly, pressing a hand to his injured side.

"You are fine," she replied sarcastically. "I'll just tell Yoda that the next time he asks." In a singsong voice, "Don't worry, Master, he's physically fine. He just likes to hurt. Mentally though it's a whole other matter. If I were a master, I would order him to see a soul healer, but he doesn't listen to me."

"Bant."

"Don't Bant me." The healer quietly cleaned up the lunch and packed away the paste but left the Sandow soup. She still wanted her friend to eat, because she still worried. "Yoda's right, you know."

Obi-Wan stopped, his gaze firmly affixed to the floor. "About what?"

"You and Bali need each other."

"He's gotten to you too."

"Well I wish you'd do something. This moping around is annoying, even for you." She twisted in her seat to better face her friend. "At least I would know who to blame when Bali bites me."

"He bit you again?"

"No, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time." A moment of hesitation before she continued, "He didn't want to leave you." 

Obi-Wan glanced away.

"Tell me that doesn't mean anything to you and I won't press it."

For a long time there was only silence, neither one willing to break it.

"It was nice having someone there," he finally agreed with a weak smile.

From where she sat, Bant reached up and grabbed Obi-Wan's arm, careful of his side, but made him stop pacing. "You need someone to depend on you. I know you better than you'd like to admit. This solitary life you've forced yourself into is because you're afraid. You're not as brave as you'd like everyone to think."

"Thanks for cutting me down to size," Obi-Wan half growled.

"What are friends for? So what are you going to do?"

"I'm supposed to meditate on it."

"As if that was in question." Bant pressed her hand over Obi-Wan's. "Once upon a time you were not this undecided or wishy-washy. Frankly, I don't know how you've managed to fool the entire temple into thinking you're this machine that acts without doubt, question oremotion."

"I've had practice."

"Then practice at being a master."

"It's not that simple. A padawan is a long-term commitment. I can't just send him back to the initiate dorms because I decide I can't do this. It's not what I am good at."

"That's where you are wrong," Bant said as she stood with the bag with the remains of the bowl of white paste. "You're good at a lot of things, you've just forgotten." Straightening slightly, she leaned across the couch and gripped at the cloak that the knight rarely went without. "Maybe I should have held a mirror up to you at the healers. Tell me that you just didn't go against your every instinct to stay away just because that little boy was terrified. He responds to you like no one else. I could see it, if just for a moment, the Obi-Wan I remembered, sitting there on the floor talking to that little boy."

Obi-Wan looked away, he didn't like the scrutiny her silver eyes brought.

"Think about it." Bant then stood and stepped close to her friend. She reached back and tugged on the heavy braid. "I've got to get to work. Are you going to be okay?"

The knight absently nodded.


	36. Books of Being At Home, Euphemisms

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The Book of Being At Home

The deep leaves of the yawen tree shimmered in the gentle breeze of the meditating garden. The sound flowed into the gentle cascade of the distant waterfall. Taking in long, powerful breaths, Obi-Wan Kenobi slipped into a deep meditative stance.

The ache in his side still persisted but he was slowly getting over it. All he cared now was not to let the pain show.

Closing his eyes, he allowed the Force to act as his vision. Casting out he felt the currents of the temple. The gentle movement of thousands of voices, all blending into a single hum that invigorated the Force. He sensed thousands of lifeforms mulling about the immense temple.

His thoughts briefly alighted on his small, but empty apartment. He hated that small, dark windowless place. He missed the view of the commerce lines that arced around the ancient temple. Longing for a window or balcony or someplace that he could see the kinetic energy that flowed above the city planet's surface. Just a little escape from the contemplation of temple life, something the knight knew he was going to have to get used to. He had been removed from active duty to "heal" but he knew that it would remain a standing order long after his injuries were taken care of.

In quiet reflection, he allowed his weary thoughts to wander the massive structure that was once familiar and alien to him. It would be home again. He would just have to try, right?

Obi-Wan craved the comfort and safety of the temple, but at the same time he knew it didn't feel quite right. He didn't belong there. Hadn't since awaking from the coma. Ever since that day he had felt as if he were walking a step out of synch. 

The Force told him that. 

Something had changed and yet for all his meditation the answer never presented itself.

It was the will of the Force and he should just accept it.

Easier said than done.

Unconsciously his thoughts drifted from the emptiness that had become his life. The uncertainty that he could not just accept without question.

The initiate dorms were quiet at the late hour. For a little while at least, soon it would be full of children ready for another day. 

The sleeping boy was easy to find.

He wondered what dreams kept Bali company in his slumber. 

It would be nothing to draw away and block the burgeoning bond. Still, Obi-Wan knew if that had been his intention he would have severed it and shielded himself completely against it long before now.

_____________________

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The Book of Euphemisms

"Where's Anakin?" 

"Studying," Qui-Gon said as he sat down on a long bench in the empty lounge. He absently stared past his friend at the large, gently curving windows into the dark blue Coruscant sky. An amber glow from the city below cast an eerie glow in the cloudless night.

Mace set the reader he was studying to the side and stared at his friend silently for a long time. "How is he?"

"Healing." The graying master smiled. "He's happy to be back in his own bed. As am I."

"I'll bet." The senior Council member leaned forward in his seat. His dark eyes focused sharply on his friend. "And how are you doing?"

Silence lingered.

"I'm fine," was the short reply.

Mace eyed the other man. "And?"

"What?"

"When was the last time someone said you were stubborn?"

"Just this afternoon," Qui-Gon replied dully.

Mace glared at the venerable master.

"You thought sending Knight Kenobi after Anakin and I was going to heal all wounds and we'd come back friends?" Qui-Gon chuckled to himself as he folded his arms tight across his chest. "I didn't know you were still so naïve, old friend."

The other man easily saw through the façade, he sensed the older Jedi's uncertainty and attempts to bury the feeling. He chose to play along.

"The Council sent _Knight Kenobi_ because he is very good at what he does." Mace studied Qui-Gon's dour expression before continuing. "Would you have rather us send someone not quite as tested to pull you and your apprentice from Tarsis?"

Qui-Gon allowed a low growl to show his displeasure in the turn in the conversation.

"Not so smug are you now?" Mace taunted.

Instantly the graying Jedi Master was on his feet. He spun around and shot Mace a harsh look. "Between you and Yoda, my head has not stopped aching in over two weeks. What part of not wanting to discuss _him_ don't you understand?" Qui-Gon suddenly stopped. His temper had flared at the slightest provocation. His strength left him and he sank back to the chair.

"This is so unlike you, Qui," Mace said flatly, merely observing the shocked look on the other man's face. 

"I did what I felt was right," was the soft excuse.

Mace spoke as if reading his thoughts, "Don't lie to me, old friend. We both know you made _mistakes_." He did not like the euphemism but he didn't want Qui-Gon to feel under attack. That is not what the meeting was about.

"I did my part," Qui-Gon returned stiffly. "I trained _him,_ passed on my knowledge. It is his decision to do with it as he pleases as you well know he already does. I made a knight out of a padawan. I fulfilled my oath." 

"You dismissed him, twice before the Council. Or did you forget that?"

"I did not," Qui-Gon said.

"Not formally no, but the connotation was there. It was more than enough for the Council to take action."

Qui-Gon just stared. After a moment he slowly spoke, "The empty apartment." His shoulders slumped slightly. "I thought he was angry with me."

"He probably was," Mace said absently, "but that was not why he left. Two dismissals prompted us to step in."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Regardless, we did what we felt was right. In many cases that is cause enough to be dismissed from the Order unless the Council chooses to intervene. Under the auspices of our protection he completed his trials. Did that never occur to you?" Mace couldn't believe the confused look on Qui-Gon's face.

"I think," there was a long silence as Qui-Gon contemplated Mace's words, "that I knew that. I just never–"

Mace picked up his data pad then slowly stood. "If I were him, I would not forgive you either." Then he started to walk away. 

Qui-Gon twisted in his seat. "Protection?" He asked angrily. Standing, the venerable master met the Senior Council member in a steady gaze. "Protection? Is that what the Council offered? You sent him–repeatedly–on some of the most dangerous missions you could find."

"He asked for them," Mace said as he stopped. 

"You should have had the wisdom not to allow it to continue. I begged you not too send him on anymore missions, not after the first three."

"If I remember correctly," Mace said evenly, "you had a young apprentice at the time. Obi-Wan was no longer your concern. Did you not make that clear enough? He could make his own decisions. He is an excellent knight. He is well trained. Good at what he does–"

"If he's so useful why did the Council ground him?"

"If we had our way we would have sent him out immediately upon his return to the Temple. If for no other reason than to keep you two from disrupting the place."

Qui-Gon just stared at him. "So why didn't you?"

"Yoda had different plans."

"Naturally," Qui-Gon growled. "You need to find him a hobby."

"He has one, several in fact. But you know him."

"All to well, unfortunately." 

Mace stood there silently for a moment. His gaze swept the lounge but did not return to the seated Jedi. "I do not pretend to know or understand what happened. I had always imagined long after _Knight Kenobi's _apprenticeship ended you two would remain friends. We were looking forward to using your combined skills as an excellent working team."

A soft chuckle escaped Qui-Gon.

"As it is, _Knight Kenobi's_ alienation from everyone and everything, as well as his skill makes him an excellent operative."

Qui-Gon stiffened at the euphemism. "In other words, he's expendable."

The revelation would neither be confirmed nor denied by the senior Council member.

The Jedi master's broad shoulders slumped a little more. "And the Council wants to return him to the field?"

"I can think of half a dozen special situations right now that are going critical. We have more experienced negotiators that we don't want to lose."

"But you ordered him to remain at the temple–"

"Like I said, Yoda has other plans."

Bounding to his feet Qui-Gon stormed out of the lounge.

Mace stood there silently for a moment. Casting out, for a moment he could feel the inward anger that Qui-Gon was struggling with. Quickly the master had regained control of his composure and the emotion dissipated. Slowly Mace turned his gaze to the amber glow of the Coruscant skyline. He spoke evenly, "Is that what you wanted him to hear?"

"Necessary, it was." After a moment of silence, "Another hobby need, I do not."


	37. Books of Questions, Broken Stone, Declar...

Hi everyone, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I decided to go ahead and post the rest of the story today. Thanks for reading. There is a sequel (The Long Twilight Path) in the works but it is a ways away from being ready. I will post it at tf.n because it has A LOT of short chapters. (It will be later before it is posted at ff.n.) Over at tf.n I am currently reposting (with some minor reworking) my first fiction: Unraveled. It takes place 6 or 7 years after TPM. Stop by and check it out. 

http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=5220539&replies=0

Thanks again and glad you enjoyed.

_____________________________

_____________________________

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The Book of Questions

An ache had settled deep within Obi-Wan's muscles and joints. He had maintained the same position far too long for someone feeling like he did. The stiffness made him wonder if he could even move to stand up. The Coruscant night had came and went and he didn't feel any more at peace with himself.

The leaves of the yawen rustled softly above. Biting back a low groan he stretched the tight muscles of his back and slowly opened his eyes.

Bali Tiro was quietly meditating across from him. 

Obi-Wan just stared curiously at the boy at first not quite sure how he had missed the boy's approach. After a moment though, he realized he had been completely aware even welcoming of the small, creeping footsteps and the boy's attempt at shielding. He would need practice with that, but Obi-Wan also knew very few could successfully sneak past him.

One bright green eye popped open slightly and then quickly closed.

Obi-Wan quietly studied the boy.

After a moment, Bali sneaked another peek but realized he was caught. Two bright green eyes slowly opened and faced the knight. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"That's all right," he said slowly, consciously relaxing his shielding enough for the boy to sense his presence. "What brings you here?" 

Bali shrugged. "I felt like I should be here." Uncertain eyes immediately cast down to the thick carpet of grass they were kneeling on.

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile thinking if the boy's innocence. He didn't even truly understand that he was following the will of the Force. He just accepted it.

"You do morning meditations?" Bali asked suddenly brightening as if he were surprised to see Obi-Wan there.

A little embarrassed Obi-Wan answered quickly, "Just sort of worked out that way."

"Oh." Confusion clung to the boy's small features.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," the knight tried to clarify. "It has taken me a while."

Bali stared up, his features curious but not expectant. 

Obi-Wan inwardly growled. It was a lot harder than he imagined. He gingerly reached out to the initiate and tugged on the little tuft of hair behind the boy's right ear. "Would you—"

The words had been easier when he spoke them in his head.

He was going to have to move from the safety of his corner apartment.

Meeting the boy's wide-eyed stare, he said, "I would be honoredif you would become my padawan." The words had been clumsy and uneven, he had hoped to voice it better.

Bali sat there with an unsure look.

The knight frowned.

The initiate suddenly bounded forward, a big smile on his face as he wrapped his little arms tight around the knight's neck. "I'd be a good apprentice," Bali said almost excitedly, "I promise."

"I know you would do your best," Obi-Wan said gently hugging the boy back. After a moment the pain elicited a soft groan and he gingerly peeled the boy from around his neck.

"Sorry, Master," the Bali said quickly as he inclined his head in a slight bow.

"I'm not your master yet," Obi-Wan gently corrected. He knew he had to seek the Council's approval. At that point in his life, he wasn't sure they would ever let him step foot outside the Temple. "Not until the Council approves it." He smiled at the look of worry that danced over Bali's eager face. "You have classes to attend to?"

"Yes, Sir." Bali stared happily back at the knight. 

"Good. You should attend to them. I will schedule a meeting with the Council."

"Yes, Sir," the little boy said a little too quickly unable to contain his excitement as he wiggled slightly in his place.

"Go."

Bali stood and quickly bowed, then turned and sprinted as quickly as possible from the gardens.

Obi-Wan slumped against the yawen tree wondering if he had done the right thing.

________________

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The Book of the Broken Stone

Qui-Gon had wandered the temple for what felt like hours, but he knew it had not been very long. Slowly he had turned back toward his apartment he shared with Anakin.

It had not always been that way though.

His fingers brushed over the cool placard above the panel.

Jinn/Skywalker.

Anakin had beamed like the brightest star when the placard had been placed there. He still remembered the boy's bright shining eyes. He was appreciative of the white rectangle with the simple black lettering. It had looked so wrong to him in the weeks after he had angrily pulled the old one off.

Roughly palming the door open he quietly stepped into the low lighting of the apartment. 

Mace's words still haunted him even as he struggled to block them out. Swiftly he pulled off his cloak and slung it over the couch. 

He had known the truth the day he came back to the apartment to find it empty. It had always been there, in the back of his mind. Obi-Wan couldn't have walked away without a formal review. The Council had taken him away. He wouldn't have become a knight otherwise.

Qui-Gon frowned. He just never wanted to dwell on that truth.

Creeping to the open door of Anakin's room, he found the thirteen year old deep asleep. A gentle but sad smile graced the venerable master's face. He could hardly believe the dusty little boy from Tatooine was the same one curled under a disorganized mess of blankets.

Still bothered by his earlier conversation and no more free of the haunting words the Senior Council member had spoken. Qui-Gon crept quietly to his room and closed the door. Palming the lock on he retreated to the small desk in the corner. There was a moment of hesitation as he built up his mental shielding and gently blocked his bond with Anakin. From a drawer he removed a small, pale blue pouch. Something he had picked up in a street bazaar, a couple years earlier. He stared at the elegantly woven material that was dwarfed in his large hand.

Taking a seat on the edge of his sleep couch, the venerable master pulled the small pouch open. The contents were spilled into the cup of his palm. Broken halves of a river stone came to rest in his shaking hand.

It had been so long since he had laid eyes on it. Tears welled in his eyes as the room lights glinted off the broken stone. Deep red streaks ran through the shiny blackness. His large thumb rubbed over the smooth sides of the stone, pushing them over his rough skin.

Tears flowed down his cheeks soaking into his graying beard. He stared at the shattered stone that he had given Obi-Wan for his thirteenth birthday. Shaking hands carefully fitted the pieces together he studied the deep crevice where tiny bits of stone had been ground into powder and were forever lost. The two pieces fell apart again, revealing their jagged edges.

Clutching the stone tight in his hands he was comforted by the warmth it offered him. For a moment he understood why it had always been so important to Obi-Wan. Unable to hold back the tears he allowed the sobs to take hold. 

The pain tore at his heart as he began to realize just how hurt Obi-Wan must have been to leave the stone behind. 

He was powerless to control the sobs that shook him.

The Force swirled about the Jedi master, sharing in his grief. The gentle currents lapped against his wounded soul.

His grip grew tighter over the stone.

Whatever had happened to his bright, shining padawan?

He so dearly missed the vibrant, life filled eyes.

Like the stone Obi-Wan had been broken.

Qui-Gon struggled but the tears still came. His chest still ached with a pain he could no longer suppress.

The light and energy of the Force infused his entire being.

He had failed Obi-Wan.

The tears that tickled his cheek were cold. 

Drawing his attention to the river stone his sobbing stopped. Tears glistened in his curious eyes.

The stone, while permanently scared was whole again.

_______________________

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The Book of Declarations

The calm, all knowing gaze of the Jedi Council remained focused on the silent figure in their midst. 

Obi-Wan stood humbly before the Council. His arms folded into his sleeves and his head bowed calmly waiting to be formally addressed.

Mace finally broke the silence, "Come to demand another mission?"

"Yes, Master."

Yoda perked up slightly in his seat. Ancient yellow eyes studied the Jedi before him, but he said nothing.

Slowly Obi-Wan raise his head and glanced around at the emotionless expressions of those who encircled him. "I wish to take a padawan learner."

The silence was powerful as the masters sat in quiet counsel. The knight lowered his gaze to the patterned floor. They were going to deny him. He should have asked the permission first then confronted the boy.

"And who may this learner be?" Ki Adi Mundi asked as if the answer had not already been known by all.

"Bali Tiro."

"Is the boy here?" Mace asked.

"He is waiting outside the chamber."

"Bring him forth."

Obi-Wan bowed formally and retreated to the chamber doors. After a moment the doors swept closed behind him. His cloak swept around as he turned revealing a small boy to his side and one step behind.

Bali glanced around nervously at the circle of great masters who studied him. He stopped next to Obi-Wan, then took a step closer to the knight.

Sensing the small figure's fear, Obi-Wan pressed his hand to the boy's shoulder. Then offered the little initiate waves of reassurance. Bali glanced up and was given a gentle smile. The tension quickly eased in the boy's big green eyes.

The contemplative masters silently noted the exchanged. Yoda allowed a smile to crack his usually passive features.

At this cue Obi-Wan announced, "I take Bali Tiro as my padawan learner."

The little master turned his attention back to the boy who appeared a braver. "Agree with this, do you?"

"Yes, Master," Bali answered quickly.

"Hmm," Yoda contemplated the scene before turning to face Mace in silent counsel. 

Depa Billaba spoke up. "Knight Kenobi."

"Yes, Master?"

"You understand that you must move to more appropriate housing."

"Yes, Master," he answered obediently.

"And do you understand the responsibility of taking on a padawan learner?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. "Everything will change."

"And you willingly accept this?" Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

"Yes, Master."

Mace picked up. "You must give up the missions you are so _accustomed_ to."

"Respectfully, Master, the Council has all ready forced me to give those missions up."

"Indeed."

There was a long silence.

Bali glanced around worriedly. Then the slightest movement of Obi-Wan's hand against the boy's shoulder urged Bali into remaining still.

Yoda's ears twitched at the subtle action. "Agree with you the Council does," he stated, "that you should take this boy as your padawan learner."

"You will take new quarters," Mace said firmly.

"Yes, Master."

"Contact housing immediately." Mace then turned his attention to the boy. "You have some packing to do, Padawan Tiro."

The boy smiled at the reference, then desperately tried to screw his face back into a staid Jedi mask.

Mace motioned a dismissal.

Obi-Wan, followed by Bali bowed, then retreated from the Council chambers.

Mace glanced over at Yoda. "I suppose you're going to make me pay up?"

"Lost the bet you did. Made the boy an apprentice, he did."

___________________________

__

The Book of Intersections

There was a great deal of life in the residential hall. Padawans giggled and bustled about chased by young masters. It was a noisy hall, far from the serene levels where masters of seniority and their apprentices lived. 

Obi-Wan knew he would have to learn to get used to the noise and all the movement. His senses were naturally on alert but he felt no danger so he tried to relax as he stepped out of the new apartment. 

Two young girls bolted past, laughing as they hugged their books tight to their chests.

The knight sighed again repeating to himself that he would get used to it. Turning to palm the door closed, he paused, brushing his fingers over the white rectangle with black lettering. 

__

Kenobi/Tiro.

Historically it took housing a day or two before placing the placard on a door but this one was there and waiting as soon as he got the new room assignment. Which left him to wonder if Yoda hadn't already ordered it.

Tugging on the edges of his cloak he went to collect the boy. 

With his brisk pace, he easily traversed the massive temple. He knew the initiate dorms were not that far away but the walk seemed like a never ending journey. Obi-Wan slowed realizing that he was going to have to walk a more sedate pace if little Bali was going to keep up with him. The child would wear out just trying to keep caught up.

That was not going to be the only change. There were so many he didn't even want to think about it. He would cross those bridges when the time came.

The debate still raged on inside his head as to whether he had done the right thing. It was too late to change his mind. Bali was probably wiggling with excitement for him to show up. 

Distracted by the ever present chill, he tugged on the edges of his cloak.

Suddenly Obi-Wan stopped at one of those bridges. 

A master's duty is to train a padawan. Protect them. Deal with injuries when they occur. Bali would be depending on him for all of that. He wasn't sure he could channel the Force to treat someone else. 

Mentally, physically that part of him was forever damaged.

So how could he teach Bali?

He would have to deal with it somehow, just not at the moment.

There were more important things, like the little initiate he had to gather up and turn into a padawan in the space of an afternoon.

Rounding a corner he stopped.

Obi-Wan's attentions had been elsewhere and he hadn't paid close enough attention to his surroundings.

A mistake he would not allow to happen again.

Curtly. "Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon stood there a moment, surprise danced briefly over his leonine features. A smile escaped. "Knight Kenobi." The name had not been spoken harshly or indifferently.

With barely a hesitation, Obi-Wan stepped around Qui-Gon and started to walk off.

"Please," Qui-Gon called out, "stop."

Obi-Wan obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

"Things shouldn't have turned out like this." The Jedi master lowered his gaze to the nearly empty corridor floor. "Somehow our paths—"

Obi-Wan folded his arms into his cloak not really interested in what the master had to say. 

The taller man grew silent. His deep blue eyes studied the harsh stare of the other.

"Our paths have diverged," Obi-Wan answered flatly as he tried to return to his journey. Bali was waiting.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon followed a few steps until the knight turned again.

The chill, his constant companion, urged Obi-Wan to drag his cloak tight in an attempt to warm himself. 

The action did not go unnoticed.

"I needed you to help guide me back toward the right path. I was your padawan and I needed help." He turned as if to walk away but hesitated wishing the hurt and bitterness were not so readily available in his voice. 

"I didn't know."

"Of course not," Obi-Wan laughed weakly. "You were busy." He straightened. Any sign of emotion or weakness slipped away. His voice even and cool. "Our journeys lie on different paths." A part of him wanted to condemn the man he had once called master, friend, and father. But the vast majority of him was too hurt to care anymore. Again he turned to walk away.

And again, Qui-Gon followed a few steps until the knight turned sharply to face the master.

Qui-Gon withdrew a step. "Can we not even speak?"

"Why now?" Obi-Wan asked, searching his former master's face. "You haven't wanted to before."

With that singular damnation, Qui-Gon solemnly lowered his eyes. "I see now what I have done."

"It does not mean that I should change just because you have had a revelation."

Qui-Gon nodded sadly, understanding. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

The knight started to walk away.

"Stop, just one more time," Qui-Gon begged as he grasped Obi-Wan's wrist. He brushed off the sharp look from the pale eyes. "I understand," he said softly and placed the healed river stone in Obi-Wan's palm. The master offered a gentle smile as he released his hold and walked silently away.

For a long time Obi-Wan just stood there staring at the scarred stone in his hand. He looked down the long corridor Qui-Gon had disappeared into but did not see the tall master.

_______________________

__

The Book of Beginnings

"Ready?" Obi-Wan asked of the small boy standing next to him in the hall.

"Yes, Master," Bali said quickly, willingly. All his short life had been building up to that moment. Tightening his grip on the strap of his bag he glanced up at Jedi's expressionless mask. Worried green eyes brightened at the sight of a little smile that crept up on his new master.

Obi-Wan quickly stilled his features but could not help himself and delighted the padawan again with a real grin. "Are we going to just stand out here all day?"

After a moment of confusion, Bali brightened and palmed the door open. A soft swoosh and the new home was revealed. The boy leaned forward slightly studying the sight.

With the help of a firm hand to push him forward, Bali entered his new home. Big green eyes studied the plain walls and the window that stared back towards the center of the massive temple.

Bali let out an excited gasped as he dropped his bag of belongings in the center of the room and he bolted to the window. "I can see the reflection tower from here," was the happy squeal. The small form twisted, taking in the entire sight. His mouth dropped open as he spied the small kitchenette. Immediately he crawled up on one of the stools before the counter that divided the little service area from the common room. "Does this mean we have to cook our own meals?"

"You can still eat in the cafeteria if you want too."

The boy twisted in his seat and gave Obi-Wan a skeptical cook. "Can you cook?"

"I'm not really sure."

"I like the cafeteria," Bali replied as he climbed down from the high stool and continued to search the other corners of the room.

Obi-Wan just stood there inside the doorway watching Bali scamper about new apartment. Absently he searched the pouch on the side of his utility belt like he had done a thousand times. Except this time there was something there. 

The excited little boy was forgotten as the Jedi pulled out the river stone and held it in the light. The red veins shimmered as he gently tilted it in his palm. His thumb traced the crooked line in the stone. 

__

Why had Qui-Gon given it back? 

There was warmth in the stone, or maybe it was just his hand that had heated it. The surface glowed as he lightly tightened his grip over it. He studied the deep fissure that scarred the stone, wondering briefly how it had been wounded.

A small sound brought Obi-Wan back to the moment.

Bali's exploration of the common room had ended and he was watching intently. "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?" Obi-Wan smiled at the ease of speaking that one word.

"Are you all right?"

A gentle nod as he folded the stone into his palm. He craved its familiarity. Turning his attention back to the boy, he asked, "What do you think so far?"

"I like it," came a very pleased voice. 

Then Bali turned his attention to the little hall that held the sleeping quarters and the refresher. Big green eyes turned back to Obi-Wan as if unsure what to do next.

Without hesitation, Obi-Wan scooped up the bag Bali had discarded in his excitement and carried it into the smaller of the two sleeping quarters.

Bali followed and immediately flopped down on the sleep couch. "This is better than the bunks in the dorms." He smashed a small fist into the firm pallet roll. "Softer too."

Obi-Wan couldn't help the smile as he pulled the desk chair around to face the small boy. He had felt the same sense of wonder when he was first introduced to his new living quarters with Qui-Gon. "I promise I will see you through to your knighting," he said absently as he placed the river stone back in the pouch on his utility belt.

"Master?" Bali asked, not sure if the remark was entirely meant for him.

Shaking off the thought Obi-Wan reached out and gently turned the boy's head. "There is something else we need to take care of."

The boy sat perfectly still as Obi-Wan straightened the little tuft of dark hair that would become the base of his padawan braid.

From a concealed place in the knight's right boot, he pulled out a small vibroblade. Without hesitation he lopped off a short section of his own hair. "This will make it a little longer," he whispered as the ginger strands were woven into the dark tuft of hair with aid of the Force. Then slowly he drew the hair into a tight braid and tied the end off. 

__

-fin-


	38. The Long Twilight Path

Here is a little teaser to the sequel to _An Uncertain Path_. Link at the bottom.

_____________________

****

The Long Twilight Path

The Master stuck his head back through the open door, only to find the boy deep in sleep. Again he quietly crept to the sleeping form and gently pulled the blanket back over the small form. Carefully he peeled the bandage away from Bali's cut forehead. He frowned slightly at the injury. Trembling fingers brushed the wound as he carefully guided healing energies to mend the damaged flesh. 

Chill and pain ripped through the Jedi as he fought not to show the severe discomfort the simple action caused. When he finished he slowly withdrew trying desperately to dampen the pain. 

*****************

Anakin glanced around as Palpatine and his master continued to speak. His thoughts wandered as they too often did. At the far edge of the room, surrounded by heavy security he thought he saw a maroon outfit. One that reminded him of the clothing the handmaidens–Padmé–had worn during the battle of Naboo nine years ago.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said gently drawing the apprentice in the direction of he and the Chancellor.

"This is a new play for the rebelling worlds," Palpatine continued as he found a seat at a large conference table. 

"They would not win much support in the Senate by killing you," Qui-Gon said.

******************

"I will not declare war solely because an attempt has been made on my life or the Senator's." Palpatine shook his head. "We must continue to negotiated." He looked over to the silent Muton. "Tell me, please that Aveniar have agreed to restart the negotiations?"

Muton shook his head slightly. "They have refused negotiation with the Jedi mediators."

"Because one of their kind killed the heir to the throne," Erigar growled.

"Our kind?" Anakin snapped, bristling as he turned a dark gaze on the blue man. 

"Your kind," Erigar repeated. "You know, sorcerers. You bend minds make people obey your will."

*********

__

Master? The young boy called out but found the other end of the bond closed off. Bright green eyes quivered as Bali tried to gain control of the fear mounting in him. 

__

Ghost.

Qui-Gon noted the boy's apparent distress and backed away a step. "The Senator is waiting," he said softly before completely retreating.

__

Master? Bali called out again. As soon as Qui-Gon had turned away, the boy reached up and snagged Obi-Wan's sleeve. When the Jedi looked at him, Bali was surprised by the look in the pale blue eyes.

Immediately Obi-Wan snapped out of his daze. _Padawan, I'm sorry._

Relief came the moment Bali felt the bond open up again. _Don't do that again,_ the boy warned. 

************

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"this just in. We are getting holo confirmation that the Republic has been amassing a massive military force. We go to Houf Learatil with a live report"

"Thank you, L-C14, this is Houf Learatil coming to you live from the Modell sector. There had been rumors for over a standard year that the Republic was on military maneuvers. All seemed innocent enough, raiders from the outer rim have been attacking cruisers and the military has been called in to deal with the problem. 

"Upon further investigation though HBC has exclusively learned that it is more than a patrolling operation that has been going on out here."

***************

The blond haired assistant made a little frown even as the Jedi started to retreat. After Obi-Wan had made a few steps Jira spoke up as she chased again. "So what do Jedi masters do in their free time?"

Obi-Wan strained to keep his expression neutral as he turned back to the woman. "Meditate."

"Oh." The look of disappointment fluttered across her face. She brightened slightly. "Don't you ever just take in the Coruscant sights? Sit down to a long meal."

"My time is limited."

"Take a tumble?"

Obi-Wan looked at her dryly. 

************

The other revealed a smooth black mask with the imitation of a face. The mechanically created voice hissed. "I shall destroy him," Darth Vengier replied with relish.

"Good. He has been a thorn in my side for too long. I will not have him costing me any more time or resources." Sidious hesitated. "Bring me a trophy of his death, my pet."

"Yes, my lord."

***************

For a long time, Padmé just sat at her desk staring blankly at the collection of reports. Had she known politics required so many forms and documents she would have found an easier occupation. Nerf herding, for instance. 

The part of her that was still young and foolish giggled.

Slowly she rose from behind her desk and took a few steps but stopped. Beyond the dividing panel, at the far side of the luxurious suite she saw the Jedi apprentice quietly studying the hyper movement of the traffic outside.

He didn't look anything like the little boy she had met on the sandy planet of Tatooine. There was no cherubic innocence in his expression. 

The tall–very tall–youth remained still but she sensed he took in a million moving objects at once. Completely aware of everything around him.

Even her not so polite stares.

The youth turned and locked eyes with her. 

Padmé blushed and looked away.

***************

Qui-Gon folded his arms into his sleeves and quietly studied the boy. Bali's eyes flashed. "Do you know who I am?"

"No, Master."

This brought a great frown to the venerable master. "Do you recognize the name Qui-Gon Jinn?"

A thoughtful look glazed Bali's face. "No, Master. I am sorry but I have never heard of you."

*****************

Undeterred Bant continued, "Bali says she is blond. I just don't get the human fixation with hair but aren't you a brunette kind of guy?" Pausing long enough to squash a wicked grin, she continued, "Pretty. And she likes you."

"Unmasked lust."

"What is the difference?"

Obi-Wan eyed her before he stood up and paced the room. He stopped at the table and studied the stack of work that was waiting for him. 

"So what is wrong with her?"

"Everything about her repels me. She is brash, oafish, uncouth--"

"And everything Halla Keizan is not."

****************

Holonet Broadcasting Company

"reports are coming in of armed skirmishes on the newly formed border with the League of Secessionists.

"On a related note, word is the League of Secessionists have placed a bounty on all members of the Jedi Order found within their systems"

******************

Bali squeaked as he twisted and bolted the other direction.

Keep it quiet.

Not a sound.

I can do this, Bali told himself as he fled across the whiteness.

"Little padawan," the voice taunted.

Be quiet.

Keep it to yourself.

Don't wake Master. He doesn't need to know.

It's just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

******************

"Come, pup, play with me," was the taunt as Vengier marched toward the fallen youth.

Anakin scrambled backward. Visually he searched the hall. The light fixtures caught his attention. Drawing on the Force, a low rattle filled the hall.

A dark glint lit Anakin's eyes.

The fixtures pulled from the walls, flying effortlessly through the hall toward the black clad figure. 

Vengier moved swiftly, drawing Anakin's lightsaber about, cleanly slicing the projectiles apart before they could do any damage. 

"Is that all you have?" Vengier hissed.

*********************

Sidious slammed the knight with a powerful bolt of Force lightning.

Another pained cry as Obi-Wan sank to his knees. Comfort and safety of unconsciousness beckoned to him. 

The dark lord laughed as wave after wave of Force lightning exploded from his fingertips. "It is a shame to kill you. A powerful ally you could have been."

******************

The reporter started to speak up as they rounded the corner but she hesitated when she saw Bail Organa and his entourage approaching. "Senator Organa!" she called out. "Kulu Eyo Tapir of the Bormian delegation believes that the Republic can be made whole again through peaceful means."

"I have no comment," Bail said quickly as he and his two Jedi escorts moved quickly through the hall. 

Kulu huffed before moving back in front of the camera droid to block the image of the retreating Senator. "If this becomes an all out war it will be the fault of Senator Organa and others. They depend too heavily on the Jedi for counsel. I wouldn't be surprised if they Jedi weren't advising them to war."

"Do you believe the Jedi are dangerous?"

"Why would the League of Secessionists violently expel them if they were not?"

Anakin stormed through the corridor toward the delegate and reporter.

"They will do it just for revenge," Kulu said. He started to say more but ended up jumping out of Anakin's way as the youth brushed violently passed. 

The camera droid twisted in the air recording the young man's passing. There was a snap of electricity and smoke billowed from the servos as the droid plunged to the floor with a loud pop. 

"See what that young Jedi did! They don't even like their images recorded," the Bormian hissed as he picked up the broken camera droid and handed it over to the surprised reporter.

*******************

"I was born to be a Jedi!" Anakin spat.

"You were born a slave!" 

Incensed by the Sith's words Anakin strove on. At the edge of his thoughts he could feel his master's calming presence urging him to find peace.

Anakin ignored the call and continued to strike at the Sith beast.

"How unJedi like!" Vengier delighted in Anakin's growing fury. "I thought Jedi could show no emotion. Feel nothing." The dark lord teased the youth leading him around the room by the tip of the glowing red lightsaber. "Jedi frown on silly emotions. Ask your master. He won't let you love her."

The words bit deep into the youth. If being called a slave had wounded him, the thought of being denied Padmé frightened him.

****************

The little boy flopped down on the bench next to his master. Obi-Wan reached over and lightly clasped Bali's wrist immediately settling the boy.

"It is inevitable," Qui-Gon began, "all children wiggle. Do not stifle it."

Obi-Wan's voice was cold, "Do not offer advice on training my padawan."

"You may not like me," Qui-Gon replied, "but I see many of my methods in you instruction."

**********

Sidious laughed as he slowly approached the two padawans. "Ah, young Skywalker, I can feel the hate rolling off of you, your desire for revenge."

"You don't know anything!" Anakin barked. 

"Don't I?" Sidious' covered face seemed to turn on the smaller of the two Jedi. A wicked, evil laugh filled the corridor. "You wanted to see the little one hurt. Make Kenobi suffer like you do."

Bali's eyes widened in fear. 

_____________________________

It can be found exclusively here:

http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=5598886


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